Dragon Age: Origins Elissa Cousland
by fructoselollipop
Summary: My take on the game from start to finish from the eyes of my character, Elissa. Dialogue is taken directly from the game, so all is canon. I only supplement the plot with added depth to the player character. Kindly read author's notes before the story.
1. Author's Notes

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

Before I get into the actual story, I have a few things to say.

First of all, yes, this is one of _those_ Dragon Age fics. You know, the kind that is pretty much a Mary Sue, except the nature of the game forces you into it? And because you have such a firm footing in the story with your character, you feel you have to write about it? Yeah, that.

My format deviates from this in that 80% of the dialogue is taken directly from the game. My whole purpose of writing this was not to sidetrack from the main storyline of the game, but to supplement and add depth to it. The nature of your character is to react to the events inside the game, and your choices as a player affect outcomes. While I was playing, I kept finding myself wondering why Elissa would be making these decisions. I subconsciously developed a personality for her, a background, character traits, until she became so rich in my mind that it felt like injustice to not put her into words. The story of Dragon Age: Origins was so full in and of itself that the necessary hole that was left for you to plug in your own character seemed underdeveloped by comparison.

All of that to say, the purpose of this fic was not to alter or really add any extra plotlines to the story of the game. The purpose of this fic was to add layers to who I thought I was playing. Who I thought Elissa Cousland was. I began with the human noble origin story and continue through the entire course of the game in the order that I completed it.

It may not be interesting to anyone, especially when it is just as easy to play through the game yourself and make your own choices, develop your own character. However, it seemed like such a waste to let Elissa die with my completed save file (expansion aside). I hope it is enjoyable to those few who might read it and I seriously encourage those who play to develop their characters as much as I developed Elissa.

A few side comments: Due to the format of the story, I am pretty liberal with spoilers, even in the very early chapters. This was written on the assumption that those who read it have completed their own game, but if you have not be wary of plot points you may not have reached yet. Secondly, this is still a work in progress and I do plan to carry on until the end of the main story of Origins. Real life is continuing all around me so I do not promise anything, should anyone find themselves attached. Thirdly, I do not claim to own any of the contents of this story. Even Elissa's name was generated upon character creation. As I said above, most of the dialogue is a direct script of the game and I seldom deviate from it. All credit for the storyline of the game - and this fiction - is given to the writers and developers of Dragon Age: Origins. Lastly, constructive criticism is encouraged, and I emphasize constructive. Telling me that I'm a brainless ogre because I ripped off the game does not count as constructive.

Thank you,

Kerry Ann


	2. The Fall of Castle Cousland

We are all made from nothing.

We are each born naked and new, with nothing to say who we are. We may shape ourselves according to the world around us, each soul leaving a passing imprint upon our own. But what we are born has no bearing on what we may become. We are not born special, nor are we born inferior. The most grand noble may fall into wickedness and sin, and the most lowly slave may rise up and save a nation. The daughter of a witch may escape her mother to live her own life. The unwanted son of a king may some day sit on the the throne himself. One thing is certain, if we strive for greatness it is up to us to take control of our own destiny.

Everyone passes through life bearing some mark that the world has left upon them. But very few heed the call and pass their own mark on the world.

This tale is about one of those few.

~~**~*~**~~

ELISSA COUSLAND

When asked, any follower of Elissa Cousland's tale would tell you that there is one memory of her adolescence most commonly looked back on as the truest testament to her character before she was thrust into the spotlight as the commander of the Grey Wardens several years later. Though very few remain alive now who could truthfully give account to these memories, the tale is told with such fondness amongst her followers that the uneducated might think that the whole of Ferelden lived as servants and maids on the Cousland estate when a young Elissa grew up there.

This testimony was given by her brother, Fergus, many years ago and is considered the most accurate account of the adventure.

When Elissa was a young lass of only fourteen or fifteen she took to wearing tribal face paint much like the designs she had seen on one of the elven servants on the estate. The pattern was set deep against her eyes, spilling out onto her cheekbones and forehead. Elissa liked the paint dark, so that it might stand out more prominently against her pale skin. Her mother however, Eleanor Cousland, hated it and often said it made Elissa look like a raccoon.

As the story goes, one day - fed up with arguing with her mother about the issue - Elissa snuck out of the manor to have it permanently painted on. The elves who performed the artwork laughed at her initially, believing that this was just a foolish girl out to antagonize her mother and would later regret her decision of permanency. However, they obliged her and when the deed was done, sent a messenger ahead informing Teyrna Cousland of what her daughter had done.

When Elissa returned to the manor, she found her mother outraged that her teenage daughter dare be so strong willed as to take such measures. Elissa, however, seemed quite satisfied with her choice, not to mention the idea that her mother must now adapt to her daughter's strange taste in makeup. She even went so far as to tease her mother for it.

Incensed at Elissa's obvious pleasure in her new permanent feature, Teryna Cousland demanded from her daughter which of the elves had painted the design, so that she might bring her wrath upon he or she as well.

It is told that Elissa became so concerned for the elf's welfare that she sealed her lips on the matter and spoke to no one about it thereafter, for fear that her mother might unnecessarily persecute a friend who had simply performed a favor. However, Eleanor grew further displeased with Elissa for her silence and restricted her daughter to her room for two weeks, ever under the eye of the faithful mabari warhound the family owned.

The testaments to her character, claim her supporters, are threefold: the first was her indomitable will and her drive when she set her mind to a task; the

second was her resourcefulness in achieving her goals; and third her unshakable belief in doing what was right.

Whether the story has any bearing on the woman Elissa Cousland became is for the reader to decide. The only fact that can be derived from the tale is that she was never again seen without the "raccoon paint" around her eyes.

~~**~*~**~~

_Dear Eriale,_

_I know I promised I wouldn't burden you with such mournful thoughts of life at Castle Cousland without you, but I just cannot help myself. It simply isn't the same here. Even teasing Mother has lost much of it's appeal without my second in command to share the joys of triumph with._

_Though, I suppose, the world around me has continued as though you had not left and I must do my best to continue as well. I hope you don't mind being told of the goings on here, but I can think of nothing else to write. If this does not entertain you, then please tell me not to speak of such things henceforth. Or, better yet, return so that my life will be interesting again._

_Several days ago my father received an order of troops from King Cailin himself. The darkspawn threat must be reaching a pinnacle in Ostagar if the king needs our paltry few dozen men to aid him. Even Father and Fergus are going, though I was not invited along, much to my dismay and Mother's rejoice._

_I shudder to think what she'll do to me without Father to protect me. No doubt she has salons and galas aplenty for me attend, no training to be sure, and a long dress must be worn at all times to hide my "beastly calves." How she still manages to find men who seek my hand in marriage, after all I've done to foil her attempts is beyond me. Will she stop at nothing to sell me to the most noble bidder?_

_You must think me silly, complaining about torturing my long suffering mother, when you moved to Denerim to be married and have children, and do all those things women our age should be doing. You might think that I will never grow up, and will forevermore be little Lisa, the child who poured gravy down poor Marcus Uthelienn's back on my ninth birthday. I assure you I am not, though I long to leave the estate. I grow tired of these old walls and and the expectations that come from being born within them._

_I suppose I could just bow to my mother's wishes and marry, but to do such a thing is simply out of the question. What man wants a wife who knows her way around the battlefield better than he, who can talk with commanders and strategists with equal knowledge, and whose calves are thick with usage unbecoming of a lady? More importantly what man wants a wife who would stifle her character so that it might please him? Any man who would take me under such horrid circumstances is not one I see worthy of my hand._

_Perhaps I shall never wed, though I hardly mourn that fact if the measure of a man can be taken from those mother has paraded before me._

_See what drudgery and I can think of when you are away? Oh, I curse the man who stole you from me and pray to the Maker every day that he makes you as happy as_

_you made me here._

_Write to me soon, for Father and Fergus are leaving today and I'll need what joy I can get whilst buried neck deep in Mother's social engagements._

_Your friend,_

_Elissa_

Elissa sighed and threw down her quill, massaging her hand slightly and looking over the letter with satisfaction. Outside her door she could hear the frenzied activity of last minute preparations before the garrison moved out tonight. Shouts echoed off the stone walls, and Elissa wished not for the first time that she were among those going to Ostagar. Even now she was dressed in the leathers her father had fashioned for her when she began her weapons training as a girl (though she only were able to fit into them within the last few years). Leaning against her desk were two old and chipped daggers, though they had once been fine when Father claimed them as a prize from an Orlesian commander during the war.

These she gazed at without fondness, for while she grew up using them, she longed to graduate to what she called "real" weapons. While these blades were lethal against those target dummies she practiced on during her training, they would hardly draw blood of a real foe. The unused armory was only down the

hall, it would be so easy to just pick the lock and....

A sigh escaped Elissa then, abandoning her previous train of thought sadly. It had become apparent to her since she came of age three years ago that, while her father had taught her to use a weapon in theoretical combat, he never really intended her to see battle. She had learned not to voice aloud her desires of lending her well honed skills to the Ferelden army, for Mother began accusing Father of raising a warmonger. This opinion seemed a bit strong to Elissa, for she never really wanted there to be war; she simply resented being coddled just for her gender. Even now, with the darkspawn surging in greater numbers everywhere, the teryn had adamantly refused his daughter to take part in the resistance, while Fergus was given the charge of overseeing the estate's garrison!

Thankfully, a knock sounded at her door, freeing Elissa from these frustrating thoughts and she called for her visitor to enter while she folded and addressed her letter.

Her favorite servant, a half-elf by the name of Dainah, poked her head inside the door and offered a smile before saying, "Begging your pardon, miss, but your Father would have you come to the main hall as soon as you're able."

Elissa found the request a little odd, as she knew very well that her father was entertaining Arl Howe at the moment, an old friend of Teryn Cousland's from the war. Nevertheless, she rose from her desk and reequipped her weapons to her back, for she disliked traveling anywhere unarmed. "Thank you, Dainah," she replied dutifully and handed her friend the letter. "Can you see that this is sent?"

Dainah nodded and scurried away while Elissa followed behind her at a much more leisurely pace. When she reached the door to the main hall, she could hear her father laugh pleasantly as he reminisced with his friend and she chose to politely ignore the conversation as she stepped inside.

There was a smile lingering on Teyrn Cousland's face as he turned to his daughter, holding out an arm to welcome her in. "There you are, pup; I didn't see you come in. Howe, you remember my daughter."

Elissa barely had time to bemoan her father's use of her childhood nickname in front of his guest before she was steered towards her father's companion for a greeting. It been many years since she had last seen the Arl, and it appeared as though age had not treated him kindly. His skin was sallow and stretched thin over his sunken face, and his smile looked more like a grimace when he said, "I see she's become a lovely young woman. Pleased to see you again my dear."

"And you, Arl Howe," Elissa replied a little stiffly, for she wasn't sure she was pleased to see him at all; in fact his gaze was making her a little uncomfortable. She hoped she wouldn't have to hold conversation with her father's visitor, and that she soon might hear why she had been summoned, but the Arl gave no such quarter.

"My son Thomas asked after you," he said in a tone that will forever be associated with the art of noble breeding. "Perhaps I should bring him with me next time."

It was a struggle for Elissa not to wince. Thomas was a nice fellow, to be sure, but he was duller than fresh dirt. She hesitated, unsure of how to reply, as she dare not call the Arl's implication out with her father hovering at her side, yet she could not honestly say she was interested in such a meeting with Thomas. "To... what end," she finally said slowly, after she had stretched the silence as long as she could.

Howe laughed at this, though it hardly warmed him to her. "Ha! 'To what end' she says! So glib too! She's just like her mother when she talks like that."

Another struggle to save face as Elissa forced a painful smile. She had always known she and her mother were alike in many ways, but to be compared to one another in such terms as glib!

Fortunately, Teyrn Cousland shared his friend's chuckle, sparing her a surely callous response at being laughed at, and instead teased her, "See Howe, what I must contend with? There is no telling my fierce girl anything these days, Maker bless her heart."

Elissa smiled fondly at her father; she preferred the sound of 'fierce' to 'glib.'

"Quite talented too, I'm sure," Howe replied, with more of a leer on his face than a smile. "One to watch."

"At any rate, pup," Teyrn Cousland said, finally coming to the point. "I summoned you here for a reason. While your brother and I are both away, I'm

leaving you in charge of the castle."

Elissa could feel her fondness drain away rapidly as she realized what was going on. This must be her father's newest plan to prevent her from sneaking off to join the garrison: she was now overseeing the estate! She wanted to tell him that such measures were not necessary, that she was not so incorrigible that she would outright defy his wishes, but thought it best not to breech the topic while with his guest. Instead, she adopted a demure expression, "Are you certain?" She asked, trying not to sound uneasy about the request. "What is involved with such a task?"

Teyrn Cousland folded his hands calmly behind his back and offered his daughter a reassuring smile, "Only a token force is remaining here and you must keep peace in the region. You know what they say about mice when the cat is away, yes?"

Hardly reassuring for all his candor, Elissa thought privately, but before she could reply he was continuing.

"Also, there is someone you must meet. Please, show Duncan in."

With that request, in came a tall man, clad in well worn plate that looked as though it had seen its fair share of battle. The man's weather beaten face was brown from the sun and he appeared older beyond his years in ways Elissa could only guess at, his eyes dark but friendly. "It is an honor to be a guest within your hall, Teyrn Cousland," he said in a gruff voice as he reached the group.

Howe shifted his weight uncomfortably as the man named Duncan approached, turning to the Teyrn, "Your Lordship, you didn't mention a Grey Warden would be present."

At the words "Grey Warden" Elissa could feel her attention pique. Ever since her tutor, Brother Aldous, sung the praises of the Wardens for their campaign against the darkspawn, she had sought out whatever information she could about their order. It was amongst their number that she longed to be counted more than any other military offensive, though she knew also that her family would detest the idea. Presently, she turned her green eyes to the Warden, who smiled politely back, and she suddenly became aware that her father had directed a question at her.

"Pup, Brother Aldous taught you who the Grey Wardens are, I suppose?"

Once again, Elissa had to consciously resist the urge to slap a palm to her face at the sound of her nickname in front of the Warden, and she found the effort of doing so drained her of any desire to show much enthusiasm. "They are an order of great warriors," she replied almost tonelessly.

"They are the heroes of legend, who ended the Blights and saved us all," her father said, probably for her benefit, and clearly unaware of his daughter's fascination with the order. "Duncan is looking for new recruits before joining us and his fellow Wardens in the south. I believe he's got his eye on Ser Gilmore."

Gilmore? A Warden? Elissa thought jealously. The man could hardly find his way around the manor!

"If I might be so bold," Duncan was saying with the air of great interest. "I would suggest that your daughter is also an excellent candidate."

She could not bring herself to say anything to this, daring to hope. If only Father would....

"Honor though that might be, this is my daughter we're talking about," Teyrn Cousland replied curtly.

Elissa deflated a little. She should have known that even the commander of the Grey Wardens could not convince her father to give up his precious pup. Hoping to quell her father's fears she piped up with, "I rather like the idea, Father."

Duncan gave her an appreciative and almost hopeful smile at her words, but once again the Teyrn shook his head.

"I've not so many children that I'll gladly see them all off into battle." He turned his eyes almost challengingly to Duncan. "Unless you intend to invoke the Right of Conscription...?"

The Warden held up his hands innocently. "Have no fear. While we need as many good recruits as we can find, I've no intention of forcing the issue."

Teyrn Cousland held his calculating gaze upon Duncan for only a moment longer, and when he turned back to Elissa his tone and expression were airy again, "Pup, can you see to it that all of Duncan's requests are met while I'm away?"

More than happy for such an excellent opportunity to pick the Warden's brain about his order, Elissa smiled pleasantly. "Of course, Father."

"In the meantime," the Teyrn continued with an almost business-like tone, as if suddenly remembering the troop movement that evening. "Find Fergus and tell him to lead the garrison to Ostagar ahead of me."

Elissa hesitated a moment at this; she wanted to stick around and talk to Duncan. But her father lifted his eyebrows at the delay, so she had no choice but to bow herself from the hall and complete the task.

She had gotten no farther than the atrium when she, with a stab of annoyance, stumbled upon her mother entertaining a few guests.

"Ah, here is my lovely daughter," Eleanor said pleasantly. "Have you taken care of your troublesome hound for the ruckus he was creating in the kitchen?"

Elissa had no idea what her mother was talking about, but greatly resented her faithful and intelligent mabari warhound, Argent, called 'troublesome.' She narrowed her eyes, choosing to take this opportunity to tease the Teyrna. "Oh yes, its all done," she said with only a hint of sarcasm and without any idea of what Argent was supposed to have done. "Nan's head exploded and my hound ate the kitchen staff."

Teyrna Cousland's guests laughed uncertainly, but the lady herself only sighed at her daughter's lack of decorum and responded in the only way she could, "Well at least one of us will have had a decent dinner. Perhaps your hound left something I can feed my guests." She turned then to the pair standing beside her, expertly steering the joke into the introduction she knew her daughter was dreading. "Darling, you remember Lady Landra? Bann Loren's wife?"

How could she forget? Landra was the mother of one of Eleanor's recent attempts to persuade Elissa to wed. Presently, Elissa turned her eyes to Landra's companion and saw with displeasure that it was that very son traveling with his mother.

Not that Dairren would have made a poor match, but he simply wasn't Elissa's style. More a scholarly type than what she found herself comfortable with; he was smart and nice looking enough, well-bred, but couldn't captivate Elissa's interest for all his and their mothers' efforts.

He smiled at her when he noticed her gaze on him, "It is good to see you again, my lady. You're looking as beautiful as ever."

Elissa wanted to laugh and look down at herself in disbelief. Beautiful was certainly not what she would call herself, dressed in her battered leathers that did nothing to hide her muscular legs, which - as her mother liked to point out - were nothing short of barbaric. Furthermore, her hair had recently been chopped short, and while her mother insisted she tie a few braids in it to make the style look more feminine, Elissa's blonde locks stuck close to her scalp for practicality and not beauty.

"You would think that her beauty would make it easier to make a match for her, not more difficult," the Teyrna was saying with an appraising look at her daughter.

"Perhaps your daughter simply has a strong mind of her own your ladyship," Dairren noted. "You should be proud."

Eleanor chuckled dryly. "Pride does not bear me any more grandchildren."

"I can handle my own affairs, thank you," Elissa replied with perhaps a little bit more venom than she intended, judging by the suddenly uncomfortable expressions on the guests' faces.

"I think I shall rest now, my dear," Lady Landra said quickly to cover the moment. "Dairren, I will see you at supper."

Dairren nodded and turned to his hostess. "Perhaps I will retire to the study for now."

The guests scattered away, and Elissa chose that moment to get away from her mother, who was no doubt about to scold her for embarrassing her like that.

When she was finally able to reach her brother's quarters, after aptly dodging Ser Gilmore who was looking for her to fetch Argent from the larder (she could hear the cook, Nan, screaming herself hoarse all the way in the kitchens and Elissa was in no rush to see her), Elissa hesitated outside the door, not wanting to intrude on the private moment Fergus was having with his wife and son.

Oren, the boy, was excitedly chattering about what souvenirs Fergus might bring home to him after the battle was won, and Oriana was watching her love with a worried expression.

Finally, Fergus spotted his sister and smiled brightly, "Ah and here is my little sister to see me off! Good, I'd like to say farewell."

Elissa stepped into the room with a sigh, thinking of the Warden her father was entertaining, "I wish I could go with you."

Fergus laughed obligingly, "I wish you could come! It'll be tiring, killing all those darkspawn myself."

Oriana shook her head as she always done when Elissa vocalized her desires of being a warrior, "In Antiva," she said in such a way that only Elissa might hear her condescension, "a woman fighting in battle would be... unthinkable."

Her husband, however, laughed, "Is that so? I always heard Antivan women were quite dangerous."

"With kindness and poison only, my husband," replied Oriana with a coy smile.

Fergus looked back to his sister, grinning. "This from the woman who serves me my tea!"

Elissa chuckled dryly and moved the topic swiftly to their father's message. "Father wants you to leave without him."

"So the Arl's men _are_ delayed," Fergus replied, sounding incredulous. "You'd think his men were all walking backwards." He sighed and turned back to his family. "Well, I'd best get underway. So many darkspawn to behead, so little time! Off we go, then! I'll see you soon, my love."

It was at that moment however, that their father entered the room with their mother at his side, "I would hope, dear boy, that you planned to wait for us before taking your leave," he said with a smile.

Eleanor stepped forward, unable to resist the urge to straighten Fergus's jerkin one last time. "Be well, my son. I will pray for your safety every day."

Oriana nodded, placing her hand on her husband's shoulder. "Maker sustain and preserve us all. Watch over our sons, husbands, and fathers and bring them safely back to us."

Fergus chuckled, "And bring us some ale and wenches while you're at it. Err... for the men, of course." He added quickly under the gaze of his wife.

"What's a wench," Oren piped up curiously. "Isn't that what you pull on to get the bucket to come out of the well?"

Teyrna Cousland rolled her eyes, directing her comment at Oriana. "Maker's breath, sometimes I find myself living with two small boys. Thankfully I have a daughter."

Behind her, Elissa had to turn her snort of amusement into a cough.

"Enough, enough," the Teyrn said, with a look at his daughter. "Pup, you'll want to get an early night. You've much to do tomorrow."

She did not wait to scamper from the room with relief.

~~**~*~**~~

BRYCE AND ELEANOR COUSLAND

It was no secret amongst those who knew the Cousland family that Eleanor was not a lady to be easily trifled with. She had been always been a fiery woman and it was often commented that the mother had borne a daughter in her own image, which is probably why Eleanor and Elissa butt heads so often. Elissa took after her mother in so many ways that the two would have gotten along quite marvelously if they weren't always trying to have their own way. They loved each other as any mother and daughter should, but growing up Elissa learned to avoid her mother's temper and thus her mother altogether.

It is with Bryce that she felt closer to, and spent much of her childhood with.

She took lessons in combat alongside her brother, Fergus, with their father and the three were so close that the Teyrna Cousland was rumored to mourn having had two sons and no daughter to share things with.

As Elissa grew older, her mother softened and, to her credit, made an attempt to be more gentle about the things she asked of her daughter. She hoped with a son already deeply invested in the army, that she might turn Elissa's attentions to settling down with the son of a lord or a bachelor nobleman who had taken an interest to her. It goes without saying that Elissa wanted nothing to do with her mother's matchmaking, preferring to discuss tactics on the battlefield with the soldiers rather than dinner parties and salons with other young ladies her age.

Much later in the future, Elissa commented on how she lived the first two decades of her life under the impression that her mother was simply feisty in nature with nothing to show for it, something that she did not exactly take stock in. She privately regretted showing such disrespect to her dear mother growing up, only to learn on the last night of the Teyrna's life that Eleanor was quite the skilled warrior in her day and was willing to take up arms if called on.

No one can say how great Elissa's shock had been when Eleanor donned armor and took up her bow the night Castle Cousland fell, but if her lamentations are to be believed one must think it was quite astonishing a discovery indeed.

~~**~*~**~~

It was a loud noise outside Elissa's door that awoke her later that night. Argent was crouching at the foot of her bed with his hackles raised, barking at the occasional sound of steel clashing on steel.

But... what? The sounds of battle? She barely had time to make sense of it all when her bedroom door burst open. Dainah stumbled in, looking panicked, "My Lady, they've taken the cas --" Her friend choked on her last word as a battery of arrows struck her in the back, and she collapsed dead at Elissa's feet. Just beyond the door were men drawing new arrows from their quivers to point at her this time and she dove out of the doorway, scrambling for clothes and equipment.

Argent did not hesitate, however, and darted out of the room toward the intruders, landing what sounded to be a very satisfying bite somewhere on the man's anatomy. He screamed for help from his compatriot, but Argent did not give quarter, ensuring that his mistress would befall no harm while she was reequipping herself.

When finally she was dressed, Elissa called Argent to her side, pleased to see the hall now abandoned and that her hound had lived up to his breed. She was moving toward the next corridor hesitantly when the door swung open and her mother rushed through it, dressed a fine set of leather armor.

Thinking she must still be partially asleep, Elissa gaped and shook her head, as if to dislodge the false image from her mind. But when she looked back to Eleanor, there she still stood, looking ready for what promised to be tough fight.

"Darling! I heard the fighting outside and I feared the worst! Are you hurt?!"

Still somewhat taken aback by this sudden change of her mother's demeanor about battles, Elissa shook her head again, this time to refocus herself. "I was about to ask you that," she said slowly.

"They never got through the door, thanks to you," Eleanor replied breathlessly. "A scream woke me up. There were men in the hallway, so I barred the door." She took a step closer, gripping her daughter by the arm. "Did you see their shields? Those are Howe's men! Why would they attack us?!"

"He's betrayed father! He attacks while our troops are gone!" Elissa hissed, cursing herself for not noticing it sooner.

A horrifying realization seemed to come over Eleanor then, "You don't think," she whispered slowly, "Howe's men were delayed... on _purpose_?" A venomous expression crossed her face. "That bastard! I'll cut his lying throat myself!" She paused, the poison slipping from her face and turning into a look of deep

concern. "Have you seen your father? He never came to bed!"

Elissa shuddered, still reeling from the violence that coursed through her mother and the idea that Howe would have been alone with Father after they were all asleep.... "No, I haven't," she murmured, not daring to think the worst. "I was in my room."

Eleanor squeezed her daughter's arm almost painfully tight, "We must find him."

Wrenching herself from her mother's grasp, Elissa crossed to the ill used armory and tugged the door open. The weapons here were in poor repair, hardly fitting replacements for her old daggers, but they'd have to do for her mother.

She stooped in and grabbed a bow and quiver of arrows before turning back to her mother, "Can you still handle a weapon, Mother?"

"I am no Orlesian wallflower," Eleanor scoffed, reaching her hands out. "Give me a sword and I'll use it! Now lets go!"

It was a painful crossing to the main hall. Twice the pair stumbled into rooms of loved ones slain in their beds, including Oriana and Fergus's son, Oren. Eleanor was grief stricken, using her chosen weapons with less skill than even she might have, but Elissa was nearly seeing red with rage. Each wave of guardsmen that came against them seeking their blood was cut down more brutally than the last.

They finally arrived at the main hall, just in time to help Ser Gilmore defend the gates. When the last of the archers in the hall were struck down, Gilmore turned to his benefactors, "Your Ladyship! My lady! You're both alive! I was certain Howe's men had gotten through. When I realized what was happening, it was all I could do to shut the gates. but they won't keep Howe's men out for long!" He swallowed hard and gave them both a hopeless look, "If you've another way out of the castle, use it quickly."

Elissa glanced at nervously her mother, "But we need to find Father!"

Ser Gilmore thankfully nodded and pointed northward, "When I last saw the Teyrn he'd been badly wounded. I urged him not to go, but he was determined to find you. He went towards the kitchen. I believe he thought to find you at the servants' exit in the larder."

Deciding not to waste anymore time, the mother and daughter sprinted for the kitchen, coming across only a few guards who might stand in their way. However, when they arrived at the larder they were met with an ugly sight.

Teyrn Cousland lay on the floor clutching a gaping wound in his midsection. "Maker's blood!" Eleanor gasped, rushing to her husband's side.

"Howe's men found me first," the Teyrn groaned, struggling to sit up. "Nearly... did me in right there."

A loud noise outside caused Eleanor to gasp, and Elissa forced herself to tear her eyes from the blood splashed over her father's tunic. "We need to get you out of here. Once Howe's men break through the gate, they will find us. We must hurry."

Teyrn Cousland shook his head, his face draining of color with every passing moment. "I... won't survive even standing, I think," he murmured. "Someone... must reach Fergus... tell him what happened here."

Elissa gripped his shoulder tightly. "No. You can tell him yourself."

A sad look was in her father's eyes as he shook his head.

"Bryce," Eleanor implored her husband. "The servant's passage is right here! We can flee together... find you healing magic."

"The castle is surrounded," Teyrn Cousland hissed, more from pain than frustration. "I will not make it in my condition."

"I'm afraid the Teyrn is correct," came Duncan's voice behind them suddenly so that it made them all jump. "Howe's men have not yet discovered this exit, but they surround the castle."

Eleanor looked at the Warden and offered a small smile of thanks for his aid, before quickly looking back to Bryce. "Whatever is to be done, it must be done quickly. "They are coming!"

"Duncan," the Teyrn whispered, now deathly pale. "I beg you... take my wife and daughter to safety."

Duncan sighed, clearly weighing something in his mind. "I will your Lordship," he says finally. "But... I fear I must ask something in return." He paused respectfully for the Teyrn to allow him to continue before pressing on with another heavy sigh. "What is happening here pales in comparison to the evil now loose in this world. I came to your castle seeking a recruit, and the darkspawn threat demands that I leave with one."

Elissa's heart nearly stopped. Could he possibly mean....

"I understand," Teyrn Cousland said quietly. "So long as justice comes to Howe... I agree. Take Eleanor and Elissa to Ostagar. Then... my daughter will join the Grey Wardens."

"But what about you," Elissa cut in sharply. "You're coming too."

A very pregnant pause passed between the four of them. Then, the Teyrna spoke, "Darling, go with Duncan. You have a better chance to escape without me."

Elissa could hardly believe her ears. She hadn't yet even come to terms that her father might die, but now her mother...? "We can find another way," she murmured almost desperately. "We can make a stand, we can fight!"

"So we all die?" Eleanor scoffed. "No. Your place is now with the Grey Wardens. Mine is with your father." She looked back to her husband, who was now panting for air. "At his side, to death and beyond."

"They have broken through the gate," Duncan said suddenly, wrapping his hand around Elissa's arm and pulling her harshly towards the exit. "We must go."

"Wait, no!" Cried Elissa. "Not without my parents."

Eleanor stood, nocking an arrow to her bow. "Duncan, go. Now."

And with that the Warden tugged his new recruit through the small door, Elissa screaming for her mother and father without ceasing until they were long since out of earshot.


	3. The Joining

DUNCAN

Only one thing is universally agreed upon regarding the Grey Warden, Duncan: no one could truthfully say they knew much about him. He had very few friends who did not die in the massacre at Ostagar, but those who survived the Blight recall with distinction that he was well liked by his fellow Wardens and that King Cailan seemed to hold him in very high regard. As for his life before taking command of the Ferelden Wardens, there is little known about him. He certainly did not volunteer information about his childhood, nor was he particularly forthcoming when asked about it.

Elissa had thus to say of him (taken from her personal memoirs):

_"Duncan was a strange and delicate man. Not that _he_ was delicate, but more that he had the most unusual talent of making those around him feel both at ease and highly anxious at the same time. It is hard to understand, even as I read back my own words, so I fear the best way to relate my meaning is to do so with a story. _

_On the fourth night after my parents' death, I had a very strange dream. It was only I standing on the wasted remains of a battlefield. The air was dark and heavy, but it was not the glittering darkness of night. It more made me think of a war that had taken place in the depths of Hell, if there is such a thing. I could almost smell the acrid smoke and blood in the atmosphere, even through the dream. As I lingered, I sensed myself being watched by something lurking just beyond my range of vision. I pleaded with it to reveal itself, for I was very afraid, but it only danced around me in the gloom until I rather felt like a helpless mouse being teased before the cat's jaws closed around me. I screamed for what must have been hours, feeling utterly lost and alone, until Duncan's hand on my shoulder shook me awake. _

_We had been traveling to Ostagar alone for four days and throughout the whole of the journey he had said very little. Now, however, he spoke more than I had ever known him to, demanding every detail about my dream. I do not know how long he kept up his interrogation, but I recall that the intensity of his questioning alarmed me. Yet... under his steady gaze, I could feel my fear ebb away to be replaced with calmness and a sense of security. _

_Does that help explain? Perhaps not, though I do wonder now what the dream had meant and more importantly, what _he_ thought it meant. Is it possible I was already receiving visions of the archdemon, though I had not yet undergone my Joining? Or was the dream simply a sinister reinvention of my parents' murder? _

_No matter what the dream really was, Duncan spoke no more of it, and I soon forgot it myself, as we arrived in Ostagar the very next day and we each had more pressing matters on our minds."_

~~**~*~**~~

By the time Ostagar was a mere shining pinprick on the horizon, Elissa was far beyond ready to escape Duncan's dreary companionship and undergo the mysterious Joining ritual he had mentioned to her in passing. Not that she disliked the Grey Warden, but it did not take her long to realize that he was ill suited to console her for the loss of her parents, as he had seen so much death in his own life. Their conversations were very respectful, but few and far between, so that on their fifth and final day of travel Elissa felt no more like her old self than at the moment she first realized her parents were going to be killed.

_I hope this is not the template for all Wardens_, she thought to herself with a sigh. _I should hate to lose joy of life in favor of resignedness to a gloomy fate. _

As they drew up to Ostagar, she was struck with the impression of accomplishing a lot with very little. The once proud city was now no more than a ruin, with only a single tower rising above the otherwise fallen stone. In the distance she could see tents pitched and campfires burning, and presently a group of three men were striding towards the pair from across the bridge.

"Ho there, Duncan!" Called the man in the middle, sounding very cheery indeed. As he and his companions drew nearer, Elissa could see that this man was very regal indeed, dressed in golden plate mail, his young face alight with excitement.

"King Cailan," Duncan replied sounding quite surprised, and Elissa could feel an electric shock jolt through her. This was the king? Why, he could only be just a few years older than she! "I wasn't expecting a --"

"A royal welcome?" The king cut in good-naturedly. "I was beginning to worry you'd miss all the fun!"

"Not if I can help it, your majesty," replied Duncan with a benevolent smile.

"Then I'll have the mighty Duncan at my side in battle after all! Glorious!" The king drew Duncan to his side, his eyes glittering with anticipation. After a moment, he lowered his gaze to Elissa, who had been watching the conversation in awe. "The other Wardens told me you had found a promising new recruit. I take it this is she?"

Duncan nodded, gesturing Elissa forward. "Allow me to introduce you, your majesty."

"No need Duncan," said King Cailan pleasantly, stepping nearer to her. "You are Bryce's youngest, are you not? I don't think we've ever actually met."

At the sound of her father's name, Elissa snapped to attention, an idea sprouting in her head. "Yes, I am, sire, and I bring important news..."

"Is it about your father?" Cailan asked, lifting his eyebrows slightly. "Your brother has been concerned about him...."

So Fergus was alive; the Arl's men had not managed to catch up with him. "He... he's not coming, my lord," Elissa said softly. "He died when our castle was taken."

The king looked quite alarmed at this, "Dead?!" He repeated, as if hoping this was some joke. "What do you mean? Duncan! What do you know about this?"

Duncan bowed his head sadly. "Teyrn Cousland and his wife are dead, your majesty. Arl Howe has shown himself a traitor and overtaken Highever Castle. Had we not escaped, he would have killed us and told you any story he wished."

Cailan turned to take a few steps away. He seemed to be much more concerned with this news than Elissa thought he might. "I... can scarcely believe it! How could he think he would get away with such treachery?!" The king stopped, facing Elissa again, his face soft and sympathetic. "As soon as we are done here, I will turn my army north and bring Howe to justice. You have my word."

Elissa felt for the first time in her life that she would like to curtsy. Only it occurred to her that she was not wearing a dress, nor had she ever learned how to give a proper one. She compromised by nodding deeply, "Thank you very much, your majesty."

The king placed a hand on her shoulder, "No doubt you want to see your brother. Unfortunately, he and his men are scouting in the Wilds. They are not due to return until after the battle is over, and until then I'm afraid we can't even send word. I apologize, but there is nothing more I can do."

"I am not so eager to share with him the news, your majesty," Elissa replied softly. "So long as Arl Howe pays for his betrayal, I am happy."

Cailan nodded. "All I can suggest is that you vent your grief on the darkspawn for the time being." He glanced up at the sky as if to check the time and then sighed. "I'm sorry to cut this short, but I should return to my tent. Loghain is no doubt waiting eagerly to bore me with his strategies."

"Your uncle sends his greetings," Duncan said at this. "And reminds you that Redcliffe forces could be here in less than a week."

The king snorted. "Eamon just wants in on the glory," he said, indicating for Duncan and Elissa to follow as he and his guards began to stroll back towards the main camp. "We've won three battles against these monsters already, and I assure you tomorrow will be no different."

Elissa looked at Duncan uncertainly before venturing to say, "I didn't realize things were going so well..."

"I'm not even sure this is true Blight," replied Cailan haughtily. "There are plenty of darkspawn on the field, but alas, we've seen no sign of an archdemon."

"Disappointed, your majesty?" Duncan asked.

King Cailan chuckled, "Can you blame me? I'd hoped for a war like in the tales! A king riding with the fabled Grey Wardens into battle against a tainted god! But I suppose this will have to do." He looked once more at the position of the sun in the sky, keenly aware that he had been lollygagging. "Now really, I must get going before Loghain sends out a search party. Farewell, Grey Wardens." He gave them each a curt nod and moved at a more hurried pace ahead of them until he disappeared amongst the throng of tents.

Duncan, however, did not seem to be in any hurry and Elissa got the impression he wanted to say something. After a few more moments of silence, he stopped and looked out over the bridge towards nothing in particular. "What the king said is true.... They've won several battles against the darkspawn here."

Elissa tilted her head, "Yet, you don't sound very reassured."

"I know there is an archdemon behind this," Duncan said with the first note of frustration Elissa had ever heard from him. He sighed before continuing, "But I cannot ask the king to act solely on my feeling."

"Why not," Elissa asked. "He spoke of the Grey Wardens very highly."

Duncan turned back to her, a wry smile on his face. "Yet not enough to wait for reinforcements from the Grey Wardens of Orlais." He continued their walk across the bridge, still speaking of the king delicately. "He believes our legend alone makes him invulnerable. But our numbers in Ferelden are too few. We must do what we can and look to Teyrn Loghain to make up the difference. To that end we should proceed to the Joining without delay."

She nodded at this fervently. Her conversation with the king was the first thing to put her at ease since her parents died. Now she was eager to show she would make an excellent Grey Warden. "What must I do?"

"Feel free to explore Ostagar as you see fit," Duncan replied. "All I ask is that you do not leave it for the time being. There is another Grey Warden in the camp by the name of Alistair. When you are ready, seek him out and tell him it is time to summon the other recruits." He nodded, as if to affirm that she understood, then took his leave of her, Argent trotting along happily behind him as if it had always been the plan for him to do so.

Elissa sighed, suddenly remembering her fears that all Grey Wardens would be such grim fellows. _It would be my luck_, she thought as she finished crossing the bridge. _That all my companions are old, grizzled men who have long since forgotten how to laugh, and the only one who might share a joke with me is the king!_ This thought hardly cheered her, but she did promise herself to be the one to make her fellow Wardens chuckle for as long as she was amongst their number.

She knew she ought to have sought out this Alistair man right away, but she found the goings on of camp Ostagar too fascinating. On the southern edge she found a group of soldiers surrounding the first darkspawn corpse she ever laid eyes on, and the sight of it nearly made her sick. She hurried away from it to the mabari kennel next, where she found Argent pawing hopefully at the gate so he might meet more of his kind, but the kennel master would have none of it. "Begging your pardon miss," he said politely. "But most of my hounds are sick from the taint. I'd hate to let your fine animal fall ill before the battle even starts."

To this Elissa agreed most heartily, and sent Argent off to find Duncan once again. She continued to wander aimlessly through the camp until she stumbled on the Mage Circle's fire. The templars standing outside turned her sharply away and she backtracked, curious as to what was so important that she could not enter the encampment.

"Greetings, young lady," a voice called out to her from the shade of a tree only a few feet away from the templars. "You are Duncan's newest recruit, are you not?"

Elissa stopped and turned to see the speaker. It was an older woman, bearing the mark of the Mage Circle on her robes, but she was smiling politely and gesturing the younger girl over.

"He's not a man who is easily impressed," the woman continued as Elissa drew closer. "You should be proud. Allow me to introduce myself. I am called Wynne, one of the mages summoned by the king."

"Pleased to meet you," Elissa said with a nod. "My name's Elissa."

"Well met," Wynne replied gently. "And good luck to you on the battlefield tomorrow. Good luck to us all, in fact."

Elissa grinned, eager to recount her brief meeting with the king. "King Cailan thinks the battle will go well."

"The king must always seem confident; his behavior affects the troops' morale," Wynne said wisely, but she too smiled. "He does seem to find his enthusiasm easily though. Reminds me of a puppy, and I say that with both respect and affection. He is a fine man." The mage folded her arms and leaned back against her tree, sighing. "To defeat the darkspawn, we have to work together. It's not an idea everyone seems able to grasp."

"You've... faced darkspawn before?" Elissa swallowed hard. She had started to feel slightly uneasy whenever the darkspawn were mentioned. Perhaps the tension in the camp on the eve of battle had unsettled her.

"Stragglers, yes," replied Wynne. "Not the vast horde the scouts speak of." She shook her head. "You know, the Chant of Light teaches us that the darkspawn was the creation of man's sin."

Elissa blinked. She had never really taken to her religious studies, but now she found herself quite curious. "What do you mean?"

"I wonder... how much do you know about the connection between the darkspawn and the Fade?"

"I... know the Fade is where you go when you dream," Elissa replied, wincing internally at the obvious holes in her knowledge.

Wynne seemed to recognize her discomfort. "Don't worry, I've often found that if you are not raised in the Chantry it is hard to find time to learn everything writ in the holy texts. But more the point, the Fade is the realm in which your spirit passes to whenever it leaves your earthly body, be it when you dream or at the time of your death. At the heart of the Fade lies the Black City." She paused here as if allowing Elissa the opportunity to speak, but continued when she did not. "The Chantry teaches us that the Black City was once the seat of the Maker, but when mages from the Tevinter Imperium found a way into the City, it was tainted with their sin. That taint transformed those men, turning them into twisted reflections of their own hearts. And the Maker cast them back down to the earth, where they became the first Darkspawn."

"Is that true," Elissa wondered aloud.

"It may be allegory," Wynne said with a shrug. "Meant to to teach us that our own evil causes human suffering. Or it may be true. It is as good an explanation for now.

"I'll just kill every darkspawn I see anyway," Elissa muttered, adjusting the straps on her back from which her weapons hung.

"A wise decision," the mage replied, smiling. "It has worked well for me in the past. But I am certain Duncan has more for you to do than talk to me."

Elissa bowed her head sheepishly, remembering the task at hand, and scurried away from the mage. She wandered back to the center of the camp and cast her eyes to the sky, as the king had done. With a sigh, she finally decided it was time to stop dallying and get back to Duncan's request. She found a guard and asked him where she might find this man, Alistair. She was told the Warden had been given the task of delivering a message to one of the mages somewhere on the northern side of the camp and was probably still in that area. She murmured a word of thanks and headed in the direction she had been pointed, dragging her feet as much as possible.

It seemed she had found the man she sought when she walked in what looked to be an uncomfortable argument between what was certainly a mage and the Warden.

"Yes, _I_ was harassing _you_ by delivering a message," said the latter in an annoyed tone.

The mage sneered in reply. "Your glibness does you no credit."

Elissa grinned at this: she knew what it was like to be considered, 'glib.'

"And here I thought we were getting along so well," the other man said with a sigh. "I was even going to name one of my children after you: The Grumpy One."

A snort escaped Elissa then, an act that alerted both men to her presence.

"Enough," the mage said, sounding rather exasperated. "I will speak to the woman if I must! Now, get out of my way, fool." And with that he pressed on past the two and disappeared from sight, giving Elissa her first opportunity to get a look at this Alistair man.

He was quite young, around her age she'd guess, which was certainly not something she had expected. He was was tall and muscularly built, his dirty blonde hair unkempt and swept back from his face. He had a nice smile, and when he spoke she noticed an accent that gave her the impression that he had been raised on a farm his whole life. "You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together," he was saying.

Elissa chuckled at the joke, and it struck her how wonderful it felt to do so. How long had it been since she shared a laugh with someone? "I know exactly what you mean," she replied presently.

"It's like a party!" The man continued. "we should all stand in a circle and hold hands. _That_ would give the darkspawn something to think about." He beamed at her a moment, then cocked his head to the side, as if suddenly realizing he was joking with a total stranger. "Wait, we haven't met have we?" He asked uncertainly. "I don't suppose you happen to be another mage?"

"Don't worry," Elissa assured him. "Not a drop of magic in me."

"Less being yelled at for me, then," he replied with an almost sarcastic sigh. "Though, the day is still young...." He shook his head, his easy smile back on his face. "You must be Duncan's new recruit from Highever. Elissa Cousland, right?"

Elissa nodded, pleased at having been remembered, and held out her hand for him to shake, which he did heartily. "And you must be Alistair?"

"Did Duncan mention me? Good things, I hope." He tipped her a wink and continued, "Well, as the junior member of the order, the task of accompanying you as you prepare for the Joining has been relegated to me. Hope you don't mind?"

"Not at all," Elissa said, quite cheered to have a friend.

Alistair beamed at her, and she could tell he too had been hoping to find someone with whom he could joke. _How very fortunate that we should be paired together_, she thought happily, greatly relieved that her previous conceptons about the Wardens had already been disproven. "You know, it just occurred to me," he was saying at present. "That there have never been many women Grey Wardens. I wonder why that is."

Elissa crossed her arms over her chest, fighting to urge to scowl. During her exploration of the camp she had stumbled upon the two other recruits who would be Joining with her, both of whom felt it necessary to comment on what a rare flower she would be amongst the order. "Oh not this again," she said, frowning. "I can handle myself better than most, you know."

"Yeah, I'm getting that impression," Alistair replied, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I take it you've already gotten the third degree about it?"

"Yes, from Ser Jory, and Daveth, not to mention both my parents before them." She stopped herself suddenly, feeling a sharp pain in her heart at such a callous mention of her mother and father.

Fortunately, Alistair seemed just as eager to move away from the topic as she. "Oh you've met them, have you? That will make things easy, since they'll both be with Duncan then. Anyway, I'm curious..." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Have you ever actually encountered a darkspawn before?"

Elissa shook her head, feeling a little nervous by his foreboding demeanor.

"When I fought my first one," he continued. "I wasn't prepared for how monstrous it was. I can't say I'm looking forward to coming across another. But I guess that's what we Warden's have to do. Anyhow, whenever you're ready we should head back to Duncan. I imagine he's eager to get things started." He held a hand out, gesturing for her to walk with him.

Not willing to lapse into a silence she had found herself resenting when traveling alongside Duncan, Elissa asked, "So... that argument, I saw? What was it about?"

"Oh with the mage?" Alistair sighed, stopping in at the quartermaster to look at some average quality swords dispassionately. "The Circle is here at the king's request and the Chantry doesn't like that one bit. They just love letting mages know how unwelcome they are. Which puts me in a bit of an awkward position." He shifted his weight a little. "I was once a templar."

Elissa winced sympathetically. For all her ignorances of the Chant of Light, she could not easily forget Brother Aldous's praise of the militant sect of the Chantry, in charge of keeping the mages in order. "I can only imagine."

Alistair nodded. "I'm sure the Revered Mother meant it as an insult -- sending me as her messenger -- and the mage picked right up on that. I never would have agreed to deliver it, but Duncan says we're all to cooperate and get along. Apparently, they didn't get the same speech." He stopped and jerked his head at the quartermaster. "You need anything?"

"No, thank you," Elissa replied and they continued southward towards Duncan's bonfire. "So..." she said slowly, curious about the man striding alongside her. "If you don't mind my asking, I was wondering if you'd tell me a little bit about yourself?"

The Warden groaned, yet failed to hide his smile. "Its all quite boring I assure you," he teased, but obliged her anyway. "As I said, I was trained as a templar before Duncan recruited me about six months ago. The Chantry raised me, and becoming a templar was a decision made _for_ me a long time ago." He kicked at a stone on the ground. "I spent years in that chantry, hopelessly resigned to my fate. Duncan was the first person who cared about what _I_ wanted. He risked a lot of trouble with the grand cleric to help me."

"Why didn't you want to join the Chantry," Elissa asked curiously.

Alistair shrugged at this, "It just... wasn't for me. I believe in the Maker well enough, but I never wanted to devote my life to the Chantry. Duncan saw I wasn't happy, and figured my training against mages could double for fighting darkspawn. Now, here I stand a proud Grey Warden. The grand cleric wouldn't have let me go if Duncan had never forced the issue. I'll always be grateful to him."

"You speak fondly of Duncan."

"Duncan is the leader of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden," Alistair said with a tone of admiration in his voice. "Which he would say doesn't mean much, as there aren't many of us here. But, beyond that, he's a good man. A good judge of character. I owe him a lot." He looked over at his companion. "What about you? What do you think of him?"

Elissa hesitated, remembering all her criticisms of the senior Warden and finding herself without the heart to relate these to her new friend who obviously admired him so. "He seems to be a kind man," she said finally. "If a little firm."

Alistair smiled, "That's fair enough. He's done the best he can with what little he has... and that includes me, I guess."

~~**~*~**~~

ALISTAIR THEIRIN

Many who follow Elissa's tale are of the opinion that her romance with her fellow Grey Warden seems too cliche to be real. There are those who speculate that it was obvious from the very beginning that she always had her on his throne, while still more view their relationship as one of the most beautiful and inspiring success stories to come out of the Blight.

So little is known about how they fell in love, for the public only saw them as a couple after the war had been won, and it is well accepted that by then the two had already deeply fallen for each other. To those precious few who had been invited to the wedding, it was a grand sight to see such hope in the young king and queen's eyes. For, though it was kept very quiet then, it is common knowledge today that two Grey Wardens are a most unfortunate pairing due to the taint in their blood. However, they tried very hard to bear children, and many years after their wedding, Elissa disappeared mysteriously for a time only to return to the public light with a baby boy.

It seemed obvious to all what the king and queen had done, but few found the heart to fault them for it. Those close to the pair admitted that Elissa wanted desperately to give her love children, while Alistair professed that he did not need an heir while it caused his wife such distress. Despite this, they raised their son as any loving parents should and the nature of his mysterious birth came up rarely thereafter.

As for Elissa, her memoirs provide scant insight to her relationship with Alistair, and it is believed that perhaps she preferred to keep her loving thoughts to herself. What she did say for her husband was this:

"_I think the first thing I loved about Alistair was his voice, though I freely admit it wasn't always so. The first time I heard him speak I thought he was having me on. His thick, country boy accent seemed too out of place for a man who lived in a chantry for ten years. Yet, the more I heard it, the more I found I rather liked it, especially the sound of my name._

_It always struck me how easy I felt around him, even from the first moment we met. He made me laugh, which was something I had not done since my parents died and that he was able to do so, so soon after their murders helped me overcome my rage. He seemed to remind me of the person I had been before the tragedy: easy to laugh and easy to joke, and I suppose I craved his companionship because of that. Little did I know that even then I had begun to fall for him_."

~~**~*~**~~

The sun was fully in the west when Elissa and Alistair reached the bonfire at the center of the camp where Duncan was waiting with Ser Jory and Daveth. "You found Alistair, did you?" He asked as the pair approached. "Good. I'll assume you are ready to begin preparations? That is, of course, if you're quite finished riling up mages, Alistair."

Alistair shrugged and adopted what he obviously hoped was a guiltless grin. "What can I say? The revered mother ambushed me. The way she wields guilt they should stick _her_ in the army."

Duncan folded his arms over his chest, "She forced you to sass the mage, did she? We cannot afford to antagonize anyone, Alistair. We don't need to give anyone more ammunition against us."

"You're right, Duncan," Alistair replied, his voice softer at the reprimand. "I apologize."

"Now then, since you're all here, we can begin," the senior Warden said, looking at the new recruits now. "You four will be heading into the Kocari Wilds to perform two tasks. The first is to obtain three vials of darkspawn blood, one for each recruit."

"What do we need darkspawn blood for?" Elissa asked, trying to hide the disgust in her voice.

"For the Joining itself. I'll explain more once you've returned."

Elissa glanced at Alistair, hoping that she would get more information from him, but his face was blank and resolute. So instead, she put it out of her head for the moment, "And the second task?"

For this, Duncan turned to Alistair, directing the request mostly to him. "There was once a Grey Warden archive in the Wilds, abandoned long ago when we could no longer afford to maintain such a remote outpost. It has recently come to our attention that some scrolls have been left behind, magically sealed to protect them. The scrolls contain treaties promising support. Treaties that may prove valuable in the days to come. Alistair, I want you to retrieve these scrolls if you can."

Alistair nodded. "Yes, Duncan."

Duncan gestured towards the western gate. "That's the entrance to the Wilds. May the Maker watch over your path. I'll see you when you return." He turned his back on them and the four retreated warily.

"The Wilds," Ser Jory whispered as soon as they were out of earshot. "Isn't that dangerous?"

Elissa shrugged and paused so that a guard may lower the gate for them. "Can't be too bad if they're sending us out into it on our first day."

Jory didn't seem convinced. "I was here last night when the only survivor of a patrol came in. He said that his entire team had been wiped out by darkspawn!"

"Calm down, Ser Jory," Alistair said authoritatively. "We'll be fine if we're careful."

They had entered the woods by this point, and the sun had begun to fall in earnest. The forest was quiet, other than the occasional wolf howl, a fact which seemed to unnerve the knight even more. "Those soldiers were careful," he continued in a hushed whisper. "And they were still overwhelmed. How many darkspawn can the four of us slay? A dozen? A hundred? There's an entire army in these forests."

Elissa couldn't understand his tension. Only an hour ago she listened as he bored her to tears with his hopes about being a Warden, but now faced with the prospect of actually killing darkspawn he was getting cold feet?

"There are darkspawn about," Alistair said at present, "but we're in no danger of walking into the bulk of the horde."

"How do you know?" Jory asked, sounding increasingly panicked as they continued walking. "I'm not a coward, but this is foolish and reckless. We should go back...."

Alistair looked to Elissa for help, clearly aware that she had not been shaken by their task. She sighed and tried to smile at her other companions, "Overcoming these dangers is part our test. To turn back would show Duncan that we are not worthy of the Wardens."

"That's... true," Jory replied, frowning.

"Know this," Alistair supplied reassuringly. "All Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn. Whatever their cunning, I guarantee they won't take us by surprise. That's why I'm here."

"You see, ser knight," Daveth interjected. "We might die, but at least we'll be warned about it first."

Out of the corner of her eye, Elissa could see Alistair slap a hand to his face. She turned to hide her grin, "Let's just move on."

They walked on in relative silence, Elissa in front and Alistair in back so he could keep an eye on the more nervous recruits. She didn't much care for this arrangement, for she had many questions for Alistair, though perhaps it was best for him to not speak as to give Daveth and Jory the impression that he was lending the darkspawn his full attention.

After a quarter of an hour they came across their first darkspawn scout. It was shorter than a man, and was covered in rotting flesh that they could smell long before Alistair had the chance to say he could sense one about. As they came up, it let out a mixture of a growl and a moaning noise, no doubt alerting its kin to their presence, for the group had only just dispatched it when five or six more poured in from behind a hill.

These darkspawn were not particularly tough, mere grunts it seemed. Their use of weapons was clumsy and Elissa almost found herself lamenting being given such an easily accomplished task. _Now, now_, she scolded herself. _Darkspawn are still darkspawn. Best not hope for a challenge with the army so close by. _

From this group alone was more than enough blood to supply the recruits each with a vial for their Joining, and so they hurried on to find the abandoned tower Duncan told them about, eager to get back to camp before the sun's last few weak rays burned out. Twice more they came upon small outposts of darkspawn, each with only half a dozen creatures each, giving Elissa ample chances to study the sworn foe of the Grey Wardens.

Fortunately, Alistair was actually quite well-informed about the darkspawn, and was all too happy to share what he knew with his charges. There were three main kinds of darkspawn that they were likely to encounter: Genlocks, who were once dwarves; hurlocks were men, and shrieks, elves. Genlocks were the most common, mainly due to the darkspawn's origins in the Deep Roads where the dwarven nations once stood. Only men, Alistair said, became the darkspawn they were fighting at present, but as to how women were affected by the taint, he did not know.

It appeared to Elissa that darkspawn were creatures of quantity, not quality, as each wave they encountered seemed to be stronger in numbers than the last, though their combat capability remained relatively low. They seemed to prefer to claw and bite at their prey, rather than use weapons in their misshapen hands. And while she found this quite disgusting, she could hardly consider it dangerous (_isn't that what armor is for?_),much less lethal. After all, it was the blood of darkspawn that was toxic to humans, though this thought could only make her wonder at Duncan's request that they actually bring him some.

It was not a moment too soon when they at last reached the ruined tower as, Daveth pointed out, they would probably lose the light just as they were returning to camp. The outpost had clearly been abandoned many centuries ago: what was left of the stone was crumbled pitifully on the ground, and weeds crawling up what remained of the walls. There was not much left inside, save for a few iron arrowheads, the odd scrap of metal, and a broken chest that theoretically should have deteriorated long ago. Alistair bent over this, under the impression - as they all had been - that the treaties Duncan asked him to retrieve would be inside. However, the Warden straightened up with a strangled cry, looking back to his companions. "They're gone!"

"Well, well, what have we here?"

An amused voice sounded behind them so suddenly that even Elissa gasped in surprise. The speaker was a woman who looked to be a few years older than she, dressed in a rather... exotic outfit that left little to the imagination. A staff was strapped to her back and there was a positively feral air about her, though she did not look if she lived primitively. She was standing on a half crumbled wall, but as the foursome turned to face her she jumped down and continued to talk, "Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones have been long since cleaned? Or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn filled Wilds of mine in search of... easy prey? What say you, hmm? Scavenger or intruder?"

It was hard to say to whom she posed the question, but it was Elissa who found her voice first. "We are neither. The Grey Wardens once owned this tower."

"'Tis a tower no longer," the woman scoffed. "The Wilds have obviously claimed this desiccated corpse." She smirked and began to walk towards them; the men drew back from her, but Elissa stood her ground, determined not to be intimidated. "I have watched your progress for some time. 'Where do they go,' I wondered, 'why are they here?'"

"Don't answer her," Alistair warned under his breath. "She looks Chasind and that means others could be nearby." Where he had gotten that notion was beyond Elissa, for if anyone appeared more haughty and far-above such uncivilized folk as the Chasind, it was this stranger.

The woman snorted; apparently her hearing was better than he thought and clearly she shared in Elissa's disbelief of his conjectures. "You fear barbarians would swoop down upon you?"

"Yes," said Alistair, gazing at her warily. "Swooping is bad."

"She's a witch of the Wilds, she is!" Daveth cried suddenly. "She'll turn us into -" he swallowed hard as if nothing could be more fearsome. "-toads."

"'Witch of the Wilds?'" The woman repeated incredulously. "Such idle fantasies! Have you no minds of your own?" She turned to Elissa then. "You there. Women do not frighten like little boys. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

Elissa weighed this decision. Far was she from afraid of this woman, but perhaps a little caution should be exercised. Finally she decided no harm could come from sharing her name with the stranger and she replied, "You can call me Elissa."

"And you may call me Morrigan, if you wish." She smirked imperiously at them again, plucking at the feather arrangement on her shoulder. "Shall I guess your purpose? You sought something in that chest. Something that is no longer here."

"No longer here?" Alistair asked, alarmed. "You stole them, didn't you!? You're some kind of... sneaky... witch-thief!"

Elissa felt rather embarrassed for her friend. Morrigan, however, lifted her eyebrows in an amused expression. "How very eloquent your friend is," she said to Elissa. "Tell me, how does one steal from dead men?"

"Quite easily it seems," said Alistair, his cheeks faintly pink from his outburst. "Those documents are Grey Warden property, and I suggest you return them."

"I will not," replied Morrigan, "for 'twas not I who removed them. Invoke a name that means nothing here any longer if you wish; I am not threatened."

Elissa sighed, getting quite tired of the unnecessary hostilities. "Then who removed them," she asked wearily.

"'Twas my mother, in fact," Morrigan smirked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Can you take us to her?"

Morrigan laughed at this, but it was rather cold and empty of amusement. "That is a sensible request," she said. "I like you. Follow me then, if it pleases you." And with that she turned on her heel and marched straight out of the ruin without a backward look to see if the Wardens were keeping up with her pace.

Elissa did not hesitate and fell into step right behind the mysterious Morrigan, though she could hear her companions behind her debate in quick whispers whether or not it was a wise idea to do so. _Let them stay here then_, she thought, her patience wearing thin with their numerous fears. _They can return to camp without the treaties and face Duncan's disappointment_.

It was almost as though the thought had flown from her head and right into Alistair's ear because only a few moments later, he was striding alongside her, Daveth and Jory not far behind. They walked for only a short time, but Morrigan's directions led them off the path and soon none of them knew which was the right way back to camp. Elissa tried to appear more unconcerned with this fact than she was, as already Jory and Daveth were starting to moan piteously about the deepening darkness.

Finally they came upon a small hut, where an old woman was working outside. Morrigan called for her and she turned to face them, seeming supremely unsurprised that her daughter had brought guests. "Much as I expected," she said as they reached her.

Alistair scoffed, "Are we supposed to believe you were expecting us?"

"You are required to do nothing," replied the old woman. "Least of all believe. Shut one's eyes tight or open one's arms wide... either way, one's a fool! Therefore, believe what you will." She turned her wizened face to Elissa next. "And what of you? Does your woman's mind give you a different viewpoint? Or do you believe as these boys do?"

Elissa shifted her weight uncomfortably. She could not understand why, but this woman disquieted her much more than Morrigan had, and yet Alistair nor the other men were under the impression that she was very dangerous. "I'm... not sure what to believe."

"A statement that possesses more wisdom than it implies. Be always aware... or is it oblivious? I can never remember." The woman took a few steps nearer, peering right up into Elissa's face. "So much about you is uncertain... and yet I believe. Do I? Why, it seems I do!"

"Mother," Morrigan said exasperatedly. "They did not come here to listen to your ramblings."

The woman turned back to her daughter. "True, they came for their treaties, yes?" She shuffled off into the hut and returned carrying a stack of scrolls, passing them off to Alistair. "And before you begin barking," she said sharply to him, "your precious seal wore off long ago. I have protected these."

"You... oh!" Alistair exclaimed, taking an extra moment to realize what she had said. "You protected them?"

"And why not?" Asked the woman. "Take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them this Blight's threat is greater than they realize!"

Elissa's ears perked at this. "What do you mean the threat is greater than they realize?"

"Either the threat is more or they realize less," the old woman said, smiling wildly. "Or perhaps the threat is nothing! Or perhaps they realize nothing!" She began to laugh mirthfully as though she had just delivered the best joke in the world. Elissa sighed at this, frustrated with herself for expecting a real answer.

"Time for you to go, then," said Morrigan with her customary smirk, however her mother stopped her.

"Don't be ridiculous, girl! These are your guests!"

Morrigan sighed in aggravation, and Elissa could not help but be reminded of herself at that moment. "Oh, very well. I will show you out of the woods. Follow me."

"Show us right into a Chasind trap, more like," muttered Alistair to Elissa, who elbowed him hard in the ribs.

No more was said until they reached the camp. Elissa had intended to thank Morrigan most heartily for her help in completing their task, but as soon as Ostagar came into view she disappeared into a shadow and was gone. Perplexed though they were at this mysterious departure, they did not have time to ponder it as they hastened to return to Duncan.

"So, you've returned from the Wilds," the Warden said as they approached him, standing diligently at his bonfire. "Have you been successful?"

"We have," said Alistair, indicating to the stack of scrolls in his arms. "They each have their blood and we were able to recover the treaties."

"Good. I've had the Circle mages preparing. With the blood you've retrieved, we can begin the Joining immediately." He turned to Alistair. "I must ask that you keep those in your care for the time being, Alistair. With the battle tomorrow, I am afraid I do not have the time to figure out what to do with them."

"I'll guard them with my life, Duncan," replied Alistair, tucking them into his pack.

Ser Jory cleared his throat nervously, as if eager to voice something that had been on his mind for quite some time. "Now will you tell us what this ritual is about?"

Duncan exchanged a dark look with Alistair before heaving a sigh. "I will not lie; we Grey Wardens pay a heavy price to become what we are. Fate may decree that you pay your price now rather than later."

"I have no problem facing what is to come," piped up Daveth eagerly.

"Nor I," Elissa said. "Let us have done with it."

Duncan couldn't help but smile at his recruits, though Elissa had the impression it was rather sad. As a father might smile at his child's innocence yet know that it would not always be so. "Then we shall begin. Alistair, take them to the old temple while I finish the rest of the preparations."

"You know, the more I hear about this Joining ritual, the less I like," said Jory as they walked away, not even bothering to keep his voice down now.

"Ugh, are you going to start blubbering again?" Daveth snapped. "I can't take it anymore."

Jory glared at the other man, but it seemed half hearted. He appeared more concerned with the impending Joining. "Well, why all these damn tests? Haven't we proven ourselves worthy already? Have I not earned my place?"

"Maybe its tradition," Daveth sneered in reply. "Maybe they're just trying to annoy you."

"I swear, I'm the bravest one here and I'm a woman," Elissa muttered to Alistair, who snorted.

"All I know is," Jory continued as if he had not heard either one of the interruptions. "I've got a wife in Highever with a child on the way. If they had warned me... it just doesn't seem fair."

They had reached the old temple, where Elissa had stumbled upon Alistair arguing with the mage earlier. It looked much more foreboding by night. "Would you have come if they had warned you?" Daveth was saying. "The Wardens do what they must, right?"

"Including sacrificing us?"

"I'd sacrifice a lot more if I knew it'd end the Blight," Daveth replied sagely.

Elissa glanced at Alistair, who could only shrug. "I wouldn't go quite that far," she said slowly. "Each person has their own choice to make. But he does make a good point. Maybe you'll die, maybe we'll all die. But if the darkspawn win this war, then we're dead for sure."

The knight sighed, displeased that he was outnumbered in the issue. "I've just never faced a foe I could not engage with my blade."

It was at this moment that Duncan rejoined them, carrying an ornately jeweled goblet full of a sloshing red liquid that looked horribly like.... "At last we come to the Joining. The Grey Wardens were founded at the end of the first Blight when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation." He held out the cup to the recruits to look inside. "And so it was then that the first Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and mastered their taint."

Ser Jory drew back immediately, horrified. "We're going to drink the blood of those... creatures?"

Duncan nodded solemnly, "As the first Grey Wardens did before us; as we did before you. This is the source of our power and our victory."

"Those who survive the Joining become immune to the taint," chimed in Alistair. "We can sense it in the darkspawn and use it to slay the archdemon."

Elissa snapped her head around to him so fast she felt her neck crick. "Those who survive?"

"Not all who drink the blood will survive and those who do are forever changed," said Duncan heavily. "This is why the Joining is a secret. It is the price we pay." He paused. "We only speak a few words prior to the Joining, but these words have been said since the first. Alistair, if you would?"

Alistair nodded and bowed his head, as if he were about to offer a prayer. "Join us brothers and sisters," he murmured softly. "Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall will join you."

Duncan sighed. "It is time. Elissa, step forward and drink of the blood."

Elissa swallowed hard, her heart pounding as she truly feared for her future for the first time since her conscription. She wrapped her fingers around the goblet Duncan offered her and then it was too late to back out. She threw one last pleading glance at Alistair before tilting the goblet against her lips, and then her world was fire.


	4. The Tower of Ishal

It was the sun shining into her eyes that eventually tore Elissa from her hellish nightmares. Every inch of her ached as though she had been crushed by some massive force, and the tips of fingers tingled with everything she touched. She could hear with a heightened sense the movement around her, the murmurs of the men in the camp, heavy footsteps on the stone, and presently someone's voice was very near, "You may as well get up, because I know you're awake."

Elissa opened her eyes, resisting to urge to hiss at the glare from the sun. Alistair was standing in the doorway of the shabby tent she now lay in, watching her tensely. She sat up, feeling heavy and sluggish, and pressed a hand to her head, groaning, "Ugh, what happened to me?"

Alistair moved inside and sat on the edge of her cot. "You survived the Joining," he said simply. "Its not an easy thing to do, I might add." He paused, watching her as she collected her bearings. After a time, he asked, "Did you have nightmares? After my Joining I had... terrible dreams."

She didn't respond; she didn't want to remember her nightmares just yet. Instead, she swung her legs off her bed and stood, feeling rather like a displaced soul in the wrong body. She looked around the tent at her belongings. Who had been responsible for bringing me here, she wondered. She could not remember anything after she had taken of the blood.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the Joining," Alistair continued, sounding a little nervous. "But I promise you, we're not allowed. Drinking darkspawn blood... if everyone knew what they had to do, no one would want to be a Warden. And we need all the help we can get."

Elissa turned back and stared at him blankly, as if she only just realized he was there. She tried to smile, but even her face ached. "Nothing you could have said would have prepared me for that," she assured him. "I just..." She sat next to him on the cot, running her fingers through her short hair. "I can't remember anything. What happened?"

"Well," Alistair replied slowly, looking rather uncomfortable. "When you drank the blood... it was awful. You started seizing and convulsing on the ground. We weren't sure you were going to... you know, make it. And then you just went still. We thought you were dead, but then Duncan heard you breathing. It turns out you had just... gone to sleep." He shrugged. "Exhaustion is a common side affect after the Joining, so we brought you here to rest. Its a good thing you're finally awake though, we've got the battle here in a few hours."

"What?!" Elissa yelped, yanking open the flap of the small tent. Just as he said, the sun was already setting and the soldiers all around were making their final preparations. It occurred to her that it had been the position of the sun in the sky that finally roused her from sleep. She stumbled back onto the cot, shaking her head as if to clear it. "What about Jory and Daveth?"

Alistair shook his head sadly. "They... they didn't... survive." He looked up into her stricken face. "Daveth went after you. He thought that if you were good enough, so should he be. The taint killed him almost instantly. As for Jory..." He sighed. "He became frightened after what happened to Daveth. He drew his sword, tried to fight his way out. Duncan caught up with him in the end and...." He swallowed and said no more.

Elissa stared at him in horror but could think of nothing to say. After a few minutes of silence, Alistair looked at her, reaching out a hand in which he was holding a dark red amulet. "Here," he murmured. "After every Joining we take some of the blood and put it in a pendant. You know... as something to remind us of those who... didn't make it this far." She put it on instantly and he smiled hopefully at her. "I'm glad at least one of you made it."

"One of us?" She asked, lifting an eyebrow, hoping to lighten the air.

Fortunately, his smile widened. "Well... I'm glad _you _made it anyhow. Happy now?"

"Never," she teased, stretching. "So what happens now? We've got the battle tonight, right?"

Alistair stood, nodding. "I'm not sure what Duncan wants us to do, but he did ask that you attend a meeting with him and the king as soon as you're up and about." He watched her carefully as she retrieved her weapons from a corner of the tent. "I'd take a few minutes to yourself though," he advised. "The Joining is a gruelling ordeal. Just relax for a bit, pull yourself together, _then_ go meet Duncan. He said the meeting is taking place in the northwest corner of the camp, behind the quartermaster." He saluted and disappeared from the tent.

The moment he was gone, Elissa flopped back onto her cot, drapping an arm over her eyes. She still felt quite exhausted, but she had already slept for almost 24 hours and if she went back to sleep she would miss the battle (not to mention risking the fury of her fellow Wardens). She tried to will the tension her muscles to go away, to no avail. And everytime she closed her eyes she could see that horrible rotting corpse that was once a dragon.... The archdemon.... Suddenly she realized how Duncan knew that this was really a Blight....

After she had ample time to collect herself, she pulled on the boots that had been removed while she slept and saw with dismay that they were fraying at the seams of the leather. Not that she could hardly be surprised by such a thing; the boots were rather old and had seen more action yesterday than they had in a very long time. Nevertheless, she pulled them on and trudged uncomfortably over to the quartermaster to buy replacements.

~~**~*~**~~

Many expect our Age's greatest heroine to resemble the models of adventurers of fables past: that she wore gleaming white full plate with her family crest stamped on the chest, and her sword was an heirloom of the Couslands for many generations. However aesthetically pleasing that might sound, it simply was not Elissa.

She was very practical in the armor she wore and the weapons she wielded. She preferred a lighter set of armor, typically leather, or even cloth; as for her weapons she favored two lighter blades as opposed to one large one. She was forevermore looking for was to improve her gear. She had not the sentiment to continue using the armor she wore when she escaped Highever or the first daggers her father had given her when she was a lass. When something came along that was stronger or more efficient she would trade it for whatever she had been using without batting an eye, often selling the discarded item to a merchant so that she might not be burdened with it's load.

There is one weapon, so they say, that she did not simply through away after a new one caught here eye: her father's longsword. Though she put it away in favor of a more lethal blade, it is said that she always carried it in her magical bag until the day she had her vengeance on Arl Howe. Then the sword disappeared, and to where no one can say.

~~**~*~**~~

It did not take long for Elissa to find the meeting place Alistair had told her about. A small group of officers, the revered mother, the highest ranking mage of the contingency who had been sent from Circle Tower, Duncan, King Cailan, and an important looking man whom Elissa assumed was Teyrn Loghain were all standing around a table, poring over the map draped across it.

"Loghain, my decision is final," the king was saying with a note of firmness in his voice as Elissa tiptoed around the group to stand with Duncan. "I will stand with the Grey Wardens in this assault."

The man called Loghain was scowling, or perhaps that was just how his face was shaped. Either way, he did not look very pleased as he glared at Cailan. "You risk too much," he was saying darkly. "The darkspawn horde is too dangerous for you to be playing hero on the front lines." Privately, Elissa agreed. For all the king's assurances that the battle would be no worse than a walk in the Wilds, it did not seem very wise for Cailan to lead the charge himself. However, the king would hear none of it.

"If that's the case then perhaps we should wait for the Orlesian forces to join us, after all." He lifted his eyebrows.

Loghain sighed in frustration, "I must repeat my protest to your fool notion that we need the damned Orlesians to defend ourselves."

Cailan frowned deeply. "It is not a fool notion," he said with a touch of annoyance. "Our arguments with the Orlesians are a thing of the past, dead and buried at the end of the war. And," he added, drawing up his chest. "You will remember who is king."

"How fortunate, then," Loghain sneered. "That Maric did not live to see his son hand Ferelden over to those who enslaved us for a century."

Elissa's furrowed her eyebrows, trying to recall her history lessons. If she remembered correctly, it was this Loghain who had been the late King Maric's best general in the war for independance against Orlais. _That would explain his detestation of asking them for help_, she thought, _but that hardly gives him the right to be subordinate, best friend of Maric or no. _

Presently, it looked as though Cailan wanted to say something about Loghain's accusation but he finally decided against it. "Our current forces will have suffice, then," he said, sounding surprisingly calm. "Duncan, are your men ready for battle?"

"They are, your majesty."

Cailan smiled at Elissa. "And I would like to personally congratulate you on your successful Joining. Every Grey Warden is needed now. You should be honored to join their ranks."

Before Elissa could utter any word of thanks, Loghain cut in contemptuously. "Your fascination with glory and legends will be your undoing, Cailan. We must attend to _reality._"

_Now really_, Elissa thought angrily. _That was just unnecessary_! She was so perturbed by this that she actually opened her mouth to argue back, but out of the corner of her eye she could see Duncan shake his head, and so she held her silence.

Cailan, however, merely sighed and leaned over the table once more. "Fine then, speak your strategy. The Grey Wardens and I will draw the darkspawn into charging our ranks _here_." He pointed at a spot on the map, then looked over his shoulder at Loghain with a half-smirk on his lips. "And then?"

Loghain glowered at the king, "You will alert the tower to light the beacon signaling my men to charge from cover --"

"-- to flank the darkspawn, obliterating their army. Yes, I remember." Cailan shook his head, more to himself than to anyone, and found another landmark on the map, at which he pointed now. "This is the Tower of Ishal on the eastern side of the ruins? Who shall light the beacon?"

"I have a few men stationed there," Loghain replied stiffly. "It's not a difficult task but it is _vital_ to our success."

"I agree," Cailan said with a nod and an odd sort of smile as he turned back to Duncan. "That's why we should use our best. Send Alistair and Elissa to see that it is done."

Loghain too faced the Wardens, but he was not smiling. "You rely on the Grey Wardens too much. Is that truly wise?"

"Enough of your conspiracy theories, Loghain," said Cailan with the wave of a hand, as if he were brushing aside something bothersome. "Grey Wardens battle the Blight no matter where they're from."

At this, Duncan cleared his throat to indicate his desire to speak. Both Cailan and Loghain looked at him expectantly. "Your majesty, you must consider the possibility of the archdemon appearing."

"There have been no signs of any dragons in the Wilds," Loghain said quickly. "Isn't that what your men are for?"

Duncan sighed. "Yes, your Lordship."

Loghain smirked, clearly pleased at having shut down Duncan, and turned back to Cailan, his dark expression back in place. "This plan will suffice, the Grey Wardens will light the beacon. I trust they will be properly informed when it is time?"

Cailan nodded. "Yes, Duncan will see it done, I assure you. Thank you, Loghain. I cannot wait for that glorious moment. The Grey Wardens battle beside the king of Ferelden to stem the tide of evil." Looking at the king now, Elissa was reminded of what Wynne had said about him, that he was like a puppy. His face was arranged in such an expression of glee that she had to agree with that assessment.

His general, however, did not look as pleased. "Yes," he muttered quietly as he turned away from the meeting. "A glorious moment for all."

After that the meeting broke up, at least for the Wardens. Duncan indicated for Elissa to follow him away from the small group, as an argument broke out between the mage and the revered mother. Each seemed to be vying for the king's attention, though he didn't seem particularly interested in hearing either of them. What became of the discussion, Elissa didn't know, but she did not care much; she was still turning over what had been said at the meeting in her mind. "Duncan," she said finally. "Why doesn't Loghain trust the Wardens?"

Duncan didn't reply right away, he seemed to be carefully constructing his response. "Teyrn Loghain is a man familiar with a Ferelden without the Grey Wardens. We were still exiled when the war was over and it wasn't until King Maric lifted decree that we were allowed back into the country. Loghain, however, thought it was a foolish move. I think some part of him still associates us with Orlais, and he is not a man who easily forgives." He sighed. "He... was slow to trust Maric's decision to support us and even less so than Cailan's... admiration of our order." They had reached the bonfire now where Alistair was waiting, warming his hands.

"Well," he asked as they approached. "Do we have our assignments?"

"Yes," Duncan replied slowly, and Elissa could tell that he knew Alistair would not like what he had to say. "You and Elissa will go to the Tower of Ishal to light the signal fire for Teyrn Loghain."

"What?" Alistair asked incredulously. "I won't be in the battle _again?_"

"It is not what you think, Alistair," Duncan reassured him gently. "This is by the king's personal request. If the beacon is not lit, Loghain's men won't know when to charge. If King Cailan wants Grey Wardens there to ensure the beacon is lit, Grey Wardens will be there to ensure the beacon is lit.

Elissa looked at Alistair, utterly confused. What did he mean, "again?" Had he not been in a single battle yet? But how could that be? Hadn't he said he had joined the Wardens six months ago? At present, Alistair folded his arms, staring at the ground moodily, and she felt she had to say something. "We must do whatever it takes to defeat the darkspawn, right?" She asked him, touching him gently on the shoulder. "Even if it's not very exciting."

Alistair groaned, looking up once more. "Alright, I get it. Just so you know, if the king ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line, darkspawn or no."

"You seem to have some odd ideas about the king," Elissa said, trying not to laugh.

"I _happen_ to look rather fetching in a dress," replied Alistair, trying to sound haughty.

"Is that so? Then I think I'd actually like to see that."

He grinned at that. "Hmm, for you, maybe. But it has to be a pretty dress. That way we'll all have a good laugh at me shimmying down the front lines while we kill darkspawn."

Duncan sighed, rubbing his face. "The tower is on the other side of the gorge from the king's camp," he said quickly, with the air of wanting to shut out any more banter between the two younger Wardens, who were sharing a private smile. "You'll need to cross the gorge and head through the gate and up to the tower entrance. From the top you'll overlook the entire valley."

Elissa shook her head, trying to clear it for the battle. "And when do we light the beacon," she asked.

"We will signal you when the time is right," replied Duncan. "Alistair will know what to look for. Afterwards, you will stay with the teyrn's men and guard the tower. We will send word if you are needed."

"And..." Elissa began tentatively. "What if the archdemon appears?"

"We soil our drawers, that's what," muttered Alistair under his breath.

"If it does," Duncan said a little more loudly than before, with a look at Alistair. "Leave it to us. I want no heroics from either of you." It was at that moment that a trumpet sounded throughout the ruins, and the already palpable tension in the camp seemed to reach a fever pitch. "It's time; I must join the others," Duncan said. "You two are on your own until Loghain's men arrive. Remember, you are both Grey Wardens. I expect you to be worthy of that title."

Elissa rather felt like a child being scolded by her father.

"Duncan..." Alistair said softly. "May the Maker watch over you."

Duncan nodded and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "May he watch over us all." And with that he turned on his heel, striding off into the throng to find King Cailan. All around them troops of soldiers were moving down into the gorge, a few talking nervously, most silent and resigned. It almost felt as though time had slowed to Elissa. Here, with a garrison walked a chantry sister, murmuring a song-like blessing for the men. There was the small group of mages, guarded by the ever watchful templars, and looking more like prisoners than soldiers.

Presently, Argent touched his mistress's hand with his nose, and Elissa came to her senses. She glanced at her companion to find that he was sulking again, digging a hole in the dirt with his toe. When he saw that she was watching him, he sighed and turned away. "Let's just go. King Cailan _needs _two Grey Wardens up in the tower holding the torch just in case...." He began walking towards the bridge and Elissa fell into step beside him.

"So... are you going to talk about it," she asked, with a glance up at him.

"Talk about what?" He replied, staring pointedly into the distance.

"Alistair," she said slowly. "You're pouting."

"I am not!"

Elissa lifted her eyebrows at him as if to say, "You're kidding, right?" They reached the bridge and took a moment to stare out over the battlefield. Most of the troops were in ranks now. A unit of marbari warhounds were at the front, the Grey Wardens behind them, then the foot soldiers, and finally the archers in back. Looking into the woods, moving pinpricks of light were starting to form on the horizon. The sounds of thousands of feet marching echoed off the gorge, growing closer and closer. Shrieks and moans were starting to reveberate through the trees, and all the while the torchlights multiplied as the darkspawn horde drew nearer to the ruined city.

It took quite the effort to tear themselves away from the sight, but finally the pair continued moving across the bridge toward the tower. After several long moments, Alistair voiced what seemed to be on his mind. "I just hate getting babied," he said. "This is the fourth battle they wouldn't let me participate in!"

"Duncan didn't let you fight at all?" Elissa asked, incredulous that a man so desperate for new recruits would force a perfectly capable soldier to sit out.

"He always had some excuse," Alistair replied bitterly. "First I was running messages back and forth between the command centers, then it was scouting in an uninhabited part of the forest, and now I'm setting a pile of junk on fire safe in a tower." He picked up a rock and chucked it off the side of the bridge as hard as he could.

Elissa watched the stone's progress in the dim light as long as she could before asking, "But _why_?"

Alistair didn't respond right away. Finally he sighed, "He has his reasons, I'm sure. But he's never shared them with me." He looked away from her again, and she had the impression that he wasn't being quite truthful, though she didn't feel it wise to press the issue. In the distance, darkspawn were starting to come out of the treeline. An orange glow went up amongst the archers as they nocked flaming arrows to their bows.

"If it's any consolation," Elissa said with a reassuring smile. "The signal fire is a huge factor of tonight's strategy, and King Cailan asked for you personally to ensure it is taken care of. That has to mean something."

"Yes, I suppose," he muttered and Elissa decided to give up the topic for now.

The battle below them had started in earnest by the time they reached the end of the bridge. They could hear the howls of the hounds as they were set loose amongst the ranks of darkspawn, and Elissa found herself glad that Argent was trotting safely alongside her. Streaks of light flashed through the air as the archers loosed their blazing arrows over the melee soldiers, and in the distance Elissa could see the darkspawn loading up trebuchets. When they had successfully crossed, there was an immeadiate sense that something had gone wrong. A small contingent of soldiers had been left here to keep an eye on the tower, but now they were frantic - running in all directions, and screaming for aid.

Elissa and Alistair looked at each other, then broke into a run, searching for the source of the panic. "You there!" Alistair called out, pointing at one of the guardsmen fleeing from the shadow of the tower. "What's going on here?"

"You're... you're Grey Wardens?" The man asked shakily. "The tower... it's been taken!"

"What do you mean, man, taken how?" Alistair asked hurriedly, but Elissa already had guessed the answer. As she looked up at Ishal she could see fires burning in the windows that did not look natural and there was a putrid smell in the air.

"D-darkspawn," the man sputtered. "Came up from the lower chambers. Don't know how they got in. They killed all of Loghain's men. There's no one left...."

"Alistair, let's go," Elissa said, tugging on his arm. "There's not much time, and even less if we have to fight our way up! We have to light the signal fire!" The two tore away from the man as fast as their feet could carry them, stopping only to dispatch the occaisional hurlock or two. By the time they reached the tower, a painful stitch was burning in Elissa's side, but she knew she could not stop now. Alistair pushed open the heavy doors and as if on cue, the room beyond it was set ablaze, arrows flying out from the smoke.

"It was a trap!" Elissa shouted over the din, covering her face to shield herself from the smoke. "There's probably more about. You take care of the darkspawn, I'll take care of their little surprises."

Alistair seemed agreeable to this arrangement and charged into the fray, Argent at his side. A yelp and the clashing of weapons told Elissa that they each had found a mark. But she could not delay. She began sweeping through the large circular room, dodging the occaisional arrow that had been sent her way before either Alistair or Argent could distract whoever had sent it. After a few moments she found what she was looking for: a tripwire had been strung up, connected to two large conspicuously placed barrels. She reached into her magic bag, her fingers instantly finding her bolt cutters, and disabled the wire quickly, shuddering to think what would have happened if the trap had been sprung. She jumped to her feet and was able to sink her sword into the heart of a genlock before he was able to do the same to her.

In the next room they found more darkspawn, who had no doubt heard the commotion. These were just as easily dispatched as the first wave, but now Elissa began to despair. This was taking too much time. How many mobs of these creatures would they have to slay before they reached the signal fire? The second floor was just as badly infested as the first, though they had some help by a few mabari who had, for some reason, been left in their kennels. On the third floor, they found another trap intended for them: ballistas has been rigged up to a pressure plate. Elissa was rather glad she found this one in particular; the bolts harnessed to the ballistas were easily as thick as her arm.

Ten minutes had passed since the start of the battle, and there was a real sense of urgency now. If they weren't late already, they certainly were cutting it very fine. "Maker's breath!" Alistair exclaimed as he bashed a genlock to the floor with his shield. "What are these darkspawn doing ahead the rest of the horde! There wasn't supposed to be any resistence here!"

Elissa ducked the wild swing of a hurlock with a greatsword, digging her dagger into it's thigh. "Weren't you complaining earlier that you wouldn't get to fight?" She pointed out.

"Yes, _that's_ the silver lining here," Alistair replied, finishing off his foe with a quick slice of his sword. "We're alone with dozens of darkspawn who know how to rig a pressure plate, we may have missed the signal, and we're probably going to get yelled at later, but at least we're seeing action."

They rushed to the stairs that led to the fourth floor where, presumably, the beacon was waiting to be lit. Elissa was exhausted as it was; there was a thick gash on her calf from where a nimble genlock had struck her with a knife, making it difficult and painful to put pressure on the leg, but there was no time to even take a breath. Alistair was already heaving open the heavy metal door at the top of the steps. He had barely pushed it two inches when a loud roar sounded, followed by footsteps made by something much large than a human. The door was ripped open the rest of the way. Standing over them on the landing was something that Elissa had only ever heard once mentioned by Duncan, one of the more fearsome products of the darkspawn: an ogre. It was easily three times the size of a man, but just as agile as one, as it's hand shot out and wrapped around Alistair's waist, lifting him into the air just as easily as though he were a rag doll.

To his credit, Alistair seemed to be handling himself quite well. He only yelped a little bit, as the arm holding his sword was crushed into his side; the blade clattered uselessly to the ground. The hand supporting his shield was still free, though he hardly had the leverage to do much with it, not for the lack of trying. "Elissa!" He choked, sounding every bit like a man who was being crushed. "Help!"

But she had been doing all she could already, to no avail. The ogre's skin was thicker than that of the other darkspawn they had encountered previously, and everytime she landed a blow, the beast merely brushed her aside with enough force to blow her clean off her feet. Argent was having little more success, nipping at it's ankles and using the stability of his four limbs to avoid getting knocked prone.

Then there was a horrible cracking noise and Alistair screamed in pain; it sounded as though one or more of his ribs had broken under the enormous weight the ogre was forcing on him. _Maker, what can I do?_ Elissa thought desperately. Then she remembered the wound on her leg. "Argent!" She called to her hound. "Turn it around!"

How the dog understood that command was beyond her, but Argent bounded around, getting the beast's attention and convincing it to turn it's back to Elissa. She dropped her dagger, gripping her longsword uncomfortably with two hands. There, she could see her mark: a fresh wound Argent had landed on the creature's thigh just a moment earlier. She targeted it in her mind, and charged, bringing the sword in a sweeping blow across the ogre's hamstring.

It roared, falling to one knee as blood gushed from the back of it's leg. It was hardly done for the count, but she had succeeded in forcing it to drop Alistair; he fell to the ground, moaning, but alive. Argent was taking advantage of the beast's newly weakened state, and leaped on it's back, digging his claws into it's flesh and gnawing at it's neck. Elissa doubled back and picked up her dagger, thrusting both weapons into it's side. It bellowed out in pain, staggering to it's feet in order to get away from Elissa's blades and almost trampling Alistair in the process. "Dammit!" She yelled in frustration. "Just die already!"

But it clearly had plenty of fight left in it. Now it was crouching down, lowering it's head like some sort of battering ram, and bullrushed her. The sheer force of it's weight threw her backwards several feet and she landed flat on her back, her weapons flying out of her hands from the blow. It stumbled towards her, capturing her legs in one hand and leaning on it so that she thought they might snap from the pressure. It leaned forward, bearing it's deadly teeth. In a moment it was going to take her head off and it would all be over. She had barely lasted a day.

"Oh no you don't!" Shouted Alistair, and suddenly he was looming over the half-bent ogre, driving his sword through it's neck. The creature shuddered as it died, crumpling in a bloody heap at Elissa's feet. She closed her eyes, offering a silent prayer to the Maker and doing her best to calm herself. There was a soft clattering noise; Alistair had collapsed, gasping for breath. One arm was wrapped around his midsection and he looked rather pale as Elissa scrambled to his side. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he panted. "Just get that beacon lit."

Elissa stood up shakily, snatching a torch off the wall as she crossed over to the small pile of pitch that was to be the signal beacon. "Hurry, Elissa," Alistair called out. "More darkspawn are coming. They're close." She threw the torch into the pitch, which caught suprisingly quickly; the beacon was lit, they had done their part. The rest was up to Loghain.

"Let's get out of here," Alistair said, trying to sit up with a groan. "The darkspawn are going to catch up with us if we don't, and I'm in no shape to fight."

The words were barely out of his mouth, when the door to the third floor crashed open and a group of darkspawn poured in. There wasn't enough time to react. Elissa hadn't even begun to reach for her weapons when the hurlock leading the pack drew back his bow string, firing an arrow into her chest. The pain was more than anything she'd ever known, and before she could react, two more struck her. She collapsed to her knees, tasting blood in her mouth. She only had enough time to register Alistair reaching weakly for his shield to cover himself, Argent fighting until his very last, and then she knew no more.

~~**~*~**~~

Many questions have been posed over the years regarding Elissa's magical backpack. Certainly, there were enough accounts of it while she was alive to prove it's existence, though few know how it works or if it is even possible to create such a bag. What we do know about it is this: it looked like an ordinary backpack to any outside viewer, though perhaps it was a little worse for the wear. However, it had been enchanted long ago to be able to hold many more things than a normal bag might. Elissa was often seen at a merchant's stand, pulling entire suits of armor out of the bag, not to mention weapons, rations, her bedroll, books, and other miscellaneous items.

But this was not the limit to the bag's power. According to the stories, it also had the ability to sense what item Elissa wanted when she reached into it and made sure that it was always at the top of the bag. For example, if in the heat of battle, she wanted to use a health poultice, all she need do is reach her hand inside her magic bag and there a poultice would be waiting for her. But if the next time she opened her bag, now to find her bedroll, _it_ would be on top this time.

Myaja, one of Elissa's opponents in the Glory Proving, joked that no one could ever hope to defeat a challenger with such a boon on her side. With all of the curative potions, flasks of poison, bombs of acid, and other knicknacks in the bag right at her fingertips, Elissa needn't even be that skilled of a fighter to defeat her opponents.

As to where this magical bag came from, it is hard to say. Elissa was always known to have carried it, as if it had been apart of her, her whole life. Some speculate it was another trophy brought home by her father after the war. Others believe that she had bartered for it with one of the elven servants on the Cousland estate. Many have tried to replicate the magic of this so called extradimensional space, with no luck. And so it must remain another of those great mysteries about our heroine.

~~**~*~**~~

The first thing Elissa was aware of when she finally regained consciousness was the distinct lack of pain in her abdomen. Surely, getting shot three times would leave some sort feeling behind? Not that she was complaining of course, but it did make her wonder if she was alive or dead. Secondly, it occurred to her that she was naked. Well, perhaps not. But she was no longer wearing her armor, left only in her underclothes. And lastly, a voice somewhere to her left was saying, "Ah, awake at last. Mother shall be pleased."

"Morrigan?" Elissa asked warily, pushing herself into a sitting position. Indeed it was Morrigan, and they appeared to be inside what must be the cabin she shared with her mother out in the Wilds. "What happened?"

"You were injured," replied Morrigan simply. "And mother rescued you. Do you not remember?"

Elissa groaned, pressing a hand to her face, trying to think back. "I remember... we had just lit the beacon.... and then we were overwhelmed by darkspawn."

"Mother managed to save you and your friend, though 'twas a close call," replied Morrigan. What is important is that you both live."

"Of course, but..." Elissa looked around at the tiny shack to which she had been brought. "What about the battle? What happened at Ostagar?"

Morrigan sighed, a gesture which gave Elissa a strong sense of dread. "The man who was to respond to your signal... quit the field," she said bracingly. "The darkspawn won your battle, and those he abandoned were... massacred." She adopted what Elissa could only assume was the closest she could manage to a sympathetic expression. "Your friend... he is not taking it well."

Elissa dropped her head into both hands. They were all dead.... She had been late lighting the signal, but Loghain didn't even bother helping. He left them to die. How could he have done such a thing.... "This is... horrible."

"Of that, I have no doubt. Your friend has been inconsolable since Mother told him the news."

"Is he okay?" Elissa asked quietly. "I mean, he was already pretty badly wounded by the time the darkspawn found us."

Morrigan shrugged, "Physically, he is at the peak of his health, or so Mother tells me."

Elissa rolled off the bed, running a finger over the place where the first arrow had struck her. There wasn't even a scar. "Thank you, Morrigan," she said softly. "For saving us."

"I..." Morrigan replied, taken aback. "You are welcome, though Mother did all the work. I am no healer." She paused, looking rather awkward. "Your clothes are there in that trunk; Mother asked that you speak with her when you woke. I will remain inside and make something to eat." She turned her back on Elissa for privacy and began bustling about the fireplace.

When Elissa was dressed, she pushed open the door and stepped out into the sunlit forest. There she found Morrigan's mother attempting to console Alistair, though it did not seem to be going very well, until, "See? Here is your fellow Grey Warden. What did I tell you? You're not alone after all."

"Elissa!" Alistair exclaimed, moving to her and wrapping her up in a back-breaking hug. "Oh thank the Maker, you're alive! I thought you were dead for sure!"

Elissa stumbled back after he released her, rubbing her ribs. "I'm fine," she said, turning to Morrigan's mother. "I want to thank you for saving us."

"This doesn't seem real," Alistair was saying, his voice breaking slightly. "If it wasn't for her, we'd be dead on top of that tower."

"Do not talk about me as though I were not present, boy," said the old woman, crossly.

Alistair looked at her and sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it but... what do we call you? You've never given us your name...."

"Name's are pretty, but useless," she replied with a smirk. "The Chasind folk call me Flemeth. I suppose it will have to do."

"_The_ Flemeth?" Alistair repeated incredulously. "From the legends?" He gaped at her for a moment. "Daveth was right. You're the Witch of the Wilds."

"And what does that mean," Flemeth asked, lifting her eyebrows. "I know a bit of magic, yes, and it has served you both well, has it not? After all, we can't have all the Grey Wardens dying at once! Someone has to deal with the darkspawn. It has always been the Grey Wardens' duty to unite the lands against the Blight. Or did that change when I wasn't looking?"

"But we _were_ fighting the darkspawn," Alistair protested indignantly. "The king had nearly defeated them! Why would Loghain just abandon us like that?"

"Now _that_ is a good question," replied Flemeth. "Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature. Perhaps he believes the Blight is an army he can outmaneuver. Perhaps he does not see that the evil behind it is the true threat."

Elissa sighed, rubbing her face tiredly. "But, what could the teyrn hope to gain by betraying the king? There were hundreds of soldiers waiting for him to give the command, and instead he tells them to retreat? He surely can't think he'll get away with this, with that many witnesses."

"Loyalty is a strange thing, girl," Flemeth replied. "What you might see as betrayal, all this man must do is say that it isn't true and his men will attest to it themselves."

"If Arl Eamon knew what happened, he would never stand for it!" Alistair said fiercely. "The Landsmeet would never stand for it! There would be civil war!"

Elissa hesitated, "Do you really think the arl would believe us over the teyrn."

Alistair considered this. "I... don't know. But the man practically raised me, he wouldn't just turn me away if I told him our side of the story! He's a good man. And he was Cailan's uncle! He wasn't at Ostagar, which means he still has all his men. We could go to Redcliffe and appeal to him for help!"

This sounded more like desperation than anything else, to Elissa, but Alistair was looking broken after the news of what happened to Duncan and the rest of the Wardens. She tried her best to hide her pessimism, "That sounds like an excellent idea, but... I doubt the Arl's men would be able to defeat the darkspawn by themselves. Surely there are other allies we could call on?"

"Of course!" Alistair exclaimed, clapping a hand to his forehead, which looked like it hurt - he was still wearing his metal gauntlets. "The treaties! Grey Wardens can demand aid from dwarves, elves, mages and other places! They're obligated to help us during a Blight!"

"I may be old," Flemeth said at this. "But dwarves, elves, mages, this Arl Eamon, and who knows what else... this sounds like an army to me."

"So can we do this?" Alistair asked with the glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Go to Redcliffe and these other places and build an army?"

Elissa stared at him. He was actually putting _her_ in charge of this, even though he had seniority. She wanted to point out to him that he was the commander of Wardens now, and he could do what he wished, but then it occurred to her.... Alistair didn't want to lead. He needed direction, someone to lean on. He had just lost his entire family and had lived his entire life before coming to the Wardens as a slave to the Chantry. He had no idea what to do with himself. It was up to her now; he would be at her side, but he could not take control. He just wasn't strong enough. "Of course!" She replied to him at length, with more cheer in her tone than she felt. "Isn't that what Grey Wardens do?" She tried to take comfort in how much relief showed in Alistair's face.

"You are set then," said Flemeth, who was watching them curiously. "Ready to take up the mantle of Grey Wardens so that you may defeat the darkspawn and end the Blight?"

"I'd be happy with just staying alive," Elissa muttered.

Alistair smiled, "You know, come to think of it, that would be nice," he replied quietly.

Flemeth snorted, "Well you can't expect me to do everything for you? However... there is one last thing I can offer you." She turned back towards the house, calling for her daughter to come out, who appeared moments later. "The Grey Wardens will be leaving shortly, and you will be joining them."

"Oh that's such a sha -- " Morrigan froze. "What?"

"You heard me, girl. The last time I checked you had ears." Flemeth broke into a laugh while the other three exchanged looks. Elissa was confused, Alistair appeared suspicious, and Morrigan was glaring daggers at her mother.

"Ah, thank you, Flemeth," Elissa said uncertainly. "But if Morrigan does not wish to come with us then we're not going to force her."

"Her magic will be useful in your endeavour," Flemeth replied, no longer laughing. "Even better, she knows the Wilds and how to get past the horde." She turned to her daughter. "You have been itching to get out of the Wilds for years. Here is your chance."

Morrigan opened and closed her mouth, as if trying to figure out the best way to argue. "This is not how I wanted this, though," she finally said lamely. "I'm not even ready...."

"Ah, but you must be ready. Alone, these two must unite Ferelden against the darkspawn. They need you, Morrigan. Without you, they will surely fail, and all will perish under the Blight. Even I."

"I... understand." Morrigan sighed and looked at Elissa, pointedly ignoring Alistair. "Allow me to collect my things, if you please." She turned and disappeared back inside the hut, where she made a great show of banging things about huffily.

Presently, Alistair moved closer, gripping Elissa's arm. "I don't like this," he muttered. "Flemeth may have saved our lives and all, but why do we have to take _her_ with us just because her mother says so?"

Elissa frowned. "Calm down, Alistair," she replied just as quietly, keenly aware of Flemeth hovering nearby. "She hasn't given us a reason not to trust her, and besides, we need all the help we can get."

"I guess you're right," said Alistair, shrugging uncomfortably. "The Grey Wardens have always taken allies where they could find them."

"I'm _so_ pleased to have your approval," came Morrigan's voice from behind them. Her hearing _was_ good. She was now fixating her icy glare on Alistair, though she addressed Elissa when she said, "I am at your disposal, Grey Warden. I suggest a village north of the Wilds as our first destination. 'Tis not far and you will find much you need there. Or if you prefer, I shall simply be your silent guide. The choice is yours."

Elissa groaned and covered her face with her hand. She wasn't sure she liked being in charge very much. "Let's just get a move on, shall we?"


	5. The Village of Lothering

MORRIGAN, WITCH OF THE WILDS

Not much is known about this female companion of Elissa's, though many remember her from her travels with the Wardens during the war. She spoke rarely to outsiders of the group, and when she did it was not a pleasant experience for either party it seemed. She seemed to prefer keeping to herself, for even the other companions noted how withdrawn she was. If she had concerns or issues, she addressed them strictly to Elissa, and saved the rest of her breath to mock those who she deemed beneath her (which, Alistair commented once, was everyone).

While many of the companions kept in touch with the queen after the war ended, Morrigan did not. In fact, no one knew what happened to her after the archdemon was slain; it seemed she just disappeared into nothingness. Elissa seemed supremely unconcerned with this fact and was heard saying that she was surprised Morrigan stayed with the Wardens for so long. When the Blight ended there was no need for her to stay, and so she did not. However, Elissa's writings refer to something else, and we can only guess at the meaning of her words:

"Morrigan was a strange beast to me. While we never really butt heads, she rarely agreed with decisions I had made. Mercy, to her, was a waste of time while death was swift and foolproof. Obviously, I disagreed. Her magic was excellent and complimentary to the talents of myself and those I liked to keep close at my side, Wynne and Alistair. The price we paid for her spells came in all forms: from her snide comments about everything to, what she called, harmless pranks played on the innocents we passed in our travels. It amazes me, even now, how much time we had wasted retracing our steps to put right the messes she left in our wake. Her constant squabbles with Alistair grated on my nerves, and she seemed to intentionally provoke the others simply because she was bored.

Despite all this, I thank the Maker for sending her to me. For were it not for her, Alistair or I would not be here."

~~**~*~**~~

The three decided to set up camp that night in a clearing just on the edge of the forest. In the distance, they could see tiny pinpricks of torchlight that was the small village of Lothering; they would arrive in the morning. Alistair built a fire in the middle, and he and Elissa both laid out their bed rolls near it, while Morrigan found a secluded spot about a hundred feet away from them to pitch her tent.

"Miserable old bat," Alistair muttered to himself, as he speared the rabbit he had caught earlier on a stick and lifted it over the fire to roast. "How is she supposed to help us end the Blight when she can't even stand to be near us when we're sleeping?"

Elissa shrugged, popping a bit of jerky in her mouth and tossing some up in the air for Argent to catch. To be honest, she didn't really care what Morrigan thought of them. It was apparent that she didn't want to come in the first place; it was only by her mother's insistence that she was even here. If she wanted to sleep by herself she had that right, and at least Elissa wouldn't have to hear her bickering with Alistair. In fact, this gave Elissa the opportunity to speak with Alistair privately, something she had been hoping to do since they left Flemeth's hut earlier that morning. She sat for a moment in silence, watching the rabbit on the fire sizzle and pop, trying to think of how to breach the subject. Finally she decided it was best to just come out with it. "Alistair," she said slowly. "Do you want to talk about Duncan?"

Alistair froze, and Elissa had the impression that he had been avoiding even thinking about it. "You don't have to do that," he said a little stiffly. "I know you didn't know him as long as I did."

"That doesn't mean I don't mourn his loss," Elissa replied. Still he said nothing, so she tried a different tack. "I've been worried about you, you know," she murmured gently. "You went through something horrible back there, you shouldn't just bottle up your feelings about it."

"We both went through something horrible," Alistair reminded her. "I don't know how you can be this... normal afterwards."

"Is... that a bad thing?" She asked hesitantly, unsure of the point he was trying to make.

"No!" He replied. "Not at all! It's... admirable. I mean, you know that it's no good to dwell on what is already done, whereas I.... Whenever my world gets shaken up, even a little, I go completely to pieces." He fell silent, staring into the fire, and didn't seem to notice that his rabbit was burning up on one side. After a few moments he sighed, rotating the stick half-heartedly. "You know, Duncan warned me this could happen right from the beginning. Any one of us could die in battle, that's the nature of war, right? I shouldn't have lost it, not when so much is riding on us with the Blight and everything." He tore his eyes away from the fire and looked right at her. "I'm sorry."

Elissa offered him what she hoped was a comforting smile, and reached over to pat his hand gently. "There's no need to apologize, Alistair, he was like a father to you. I understand."

Alistair nodded, and in the reflection of the firelight she could see tears welling up in his eyes. "I feel like I abandoned him," he whispered. "Like... I should have been there with him on the battlefield. Maybe I could have changed something."

"No, Alistair," Elissa replied sternly. "If you had been on the field last night, you would be dead now. He saved your life by sending you to the tower."

He sighed, "Yes, I know." He went quiet again, pulling his now well done rabbit off the fire. He laid out his meal on a smooth rock and cleaved it in two with his knife, offering half to her, which she accepted gratefully. "I'd like to have a proper funeral for him," he said finally, and Elissa was pleased to hear that his voice had gotten a little stronger. "Maybe see about putting up something in his honor. I think he said he was from Highever, but I'm not sure he had any family to speak of." He looked at her now, picking at his portion of the meat. "Have you ever had anyone close to you die? I mean, I'm not trying to pry, you don't have to answer if you don't want or anything...."

Elissa didn't respond right away. "Yes," she said after a time. "My whole family was killed just recently."

Alistair gaped at her, "I... I didn't know, I'm so sorry. What happened, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Arl Howe was a friend of my father's," she said, and her forthrightness surprised even her. "They were supposed to ride to Ostagar together. When my brother left Highever with our garrison, Howe sent in his own men and slaughtered everyone in the castle, my parents included. I would have been killed too if Duncan hadn't been there." She fell silent after this, and for the first time she appreciated what a great loss Duncan had been to her. She hadn't been close to him, or even knew him very long, but he did save her life. "Maybe I'll go to Highever with you, when you decide to go."

"I'd like that," Alistair replied quietly. "So would he, I think." Elissa must have looked especially venomous then, because he took her hand which had been resting lightly atop his and squeezed it. "Elissa, they are going to pay," he told her. "Loghain and Howe. We are going to make them pay for what they've done to us."

She could only nod, but for as long as she lived afterwards she always remembered how grateful she had been at that moment that Alistair was there with her.

~~**~*~**~~

Elissa awoke early the next morning, when the sun had barely peeked over the horizon. Alistair was laying on his stomach, with his face pressed into the pillow of his bedroll, and Argent was curled into his side. She smiled at the sight of this, and decided to go down to the stream to wash up before she woke everyone. The brook was freezing, but she lowered herself in anyway, her teeth chattering, and she longed for the bubbling hot bath Dainah always drew for her.

When she returned to camp her companions were both awake, and Alistair was bent over a freshly kindled fire, roasting some breakfast for them. "So that's where you went," he commented on seeing her wet hair. "You might as well have waited, Lothering is certain to have a bath."

"Oh, I'm sure they do," Elissa replied, flopping down next to him and digging through her pack for a comb. "But this is the first safe place for miles around. The town's going to be crawling with refugees. What is the likelihood that I'm going to have a chance at the bath?"

"Where did you say this stream was?" Alistair replied jokingly. He offered her a strip of meat. "It's bacon," he said at her distrustful look. "I brought some with me when we came to Ostagar. It seemed silly to me to go without bacon just because we were going to be in a remote location."

The sun had fully risen when they finally picked up camp and by that time, Elissa was more than ready to get on the road. Morrigan had hovered over Alistair's shoulder while he repacked his bag, making derisive comments on his progress. The quarrel that had ensued was enough to make her head throb, and she was eager to move into town where they would have other things to occupy their minds.

They found the remains of the King's Highway, which had fallen into severe disrepair since the horde moved into the Wilds. Morrigan said that it was about an hour's march to Lothering from the forest's edge and while they walked, she decided to pick up the thread of the previous squabble.

"I do have a wonder, Alistair, if you would indulge me," she said slyly. Elissa groaned internally at what promised to be a terrific headache, and tried to block out the argument by focusing on something that looked to be a barricade on the road ahead.

"Do I have a choice?" Alistair replied with a sigh.

"Of the two of you that remain," Morrigan continued as if she had not heard him. "Are you not the senior Grey Warden? I find it curious that you allow another to lead, while you follow."

"You find that curious, do you?"

"In fact," she pressed on, sounding indecently smug. "You defer to a new recruit. Is this a policy of the Grey Wardens? Or simply a personal one?"

"What do you want to hear?" Alistair snapped back. "That I prefer to follow? I do. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Oh, you sound so very defensive," said Morrigan imperiously, as though his reaction was a portrait of all his character flaws.

"Couldn't you crawl into a bush somewhere and die?" He snarled under his breath. "That would be great, thanks."

Presently, the group was approaching the barricade and Elissa now could see that a small band of men hovered outside of it, some still sleeping. "Ho there!" One of the men called out as they drew nearer, trying to rouse his compatriots. "Wake up gentlemen, we've more travelers to attend to." Alistair fell back automatically to let her handle whatever situation was about to arise, and Elissa could almost hear the smirk on Morrigan's face as he proved her earlier point, but she too retreated. Meanwhile the man who had spoken caught Elissa's eye and smiled. "I'd guess this pretty lady is the leader?"

Behind her, Elissa could hear one of her companions snort. She looked over her shoulder at them, eyebrows raised. Immediately they each pointed at the other, while trying to look as innocent as possible themselves. Elissa gave them both a look that clearly said I'll deal with you later, before turning back to the matter at hand.

"Uh, boss, they don't look much like them others," said one of the other men, and Elissa got the impression he was a little on the slow side. "Maybe we should just let these ones pass."

"Nonsense," replied the leader. "Greetings, travelers! A simple ten silvers and you're free to move on."

"Highwaymen," said Alistair under his breath. "Preying on those fleeing the darkspawn, I suppose."

Morrigan scoffed. "They are fools to stand in our way. I say we teach them a lesson."

"You should listen to your friend," Elissa said to the bandit leader. "We're not refugees. And we're not paying."

"Well I can't say I'm pleased to hear that," the man replied. "Rules are rules after all. Boys!" All around him, the other bandits drew weapons and prepared to advance. There were roughly half a dozen, hardly much of a match for them, but Elissa had another idea.

"Do you really want to be picking fights with Grey Wardens," she said in her most intimidating voice, keenly aware that she was a skinny little girl with nothing more than an old sword and a dull dagger strapped to her back. However, regardless of what poor image she had of herself, her threat worked. At least a little, it seemed.

"Did she just say 'Grey Warden,'" the slow man said, turning to his boss. "Aren't them the ones who killed the king?"

The leader smirked at the group. "Traitors to Ferelden, I hear. Teyrn Loghain's put quite a bounty on any that are found."

"But... aren't them Grey Wardens good?" The second man continued. "I mean, really good? Good enough to kill a king?"

Elissa could almost see everything click together in the bandit leader's mind. "You have a point. Well let's forget about the toll. We'll just leave you to your darkspawn-fighting, king-killing ways."

Behind her, there was a clanking noise, and Alistair moved forward, his sword out. Elissa grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "Stop it, Alistair, I will take care of this."

"How dare he," Alistair seethed, fighting half-heartedly to throw her off him. "How dare he? After we... after what he did... he's...."

"I said stop it," Elissa hissed. "You put me in charge, and so I'm handling it. If you don't like it, then feel free to take the reins. I don't want them either." Immediately he stopped struggling. He glowered at her and resumed his position behind her, and Elissa turned her attention back to the bandits. She unsheathed her own sword, laying it idly against her shoulder. "You know..." she said slowly, her voice oily yet firm. "The Grey Wardens could use a donation."

"You don't say..." replied the leader flatly, eyeing her blade. "Well... yes... Twenty silvers? That's all we've - er - collected today." He signaled for one of the men to hand over the coins.

Elissa lifted her eyebrows at the small pile of money. "That's all?" She asked, truthfully disbelieving. "That's really all you have? I somehow doubt that." She closed her fist around the silvers and stepped forward, moving through the group of bandits unconcernedly. She reached the overturned wagon, which they had been using for the barricade and looked behind it: there lay a few trunks. "So, these back here? They're empty?" She kicked open the lid to the nearest one: inside lay various paraphernalia, nothing of which appeared particularly valuable, but all looked stolen.

"Oh hell," said the bandit leader, drawing his daggers. "Get 'em boys."

The bandits' weapons were out fast, but not fast enough. Morrigan had thrown some sort of spell before the others even heard her draw a breath. Meanwhile, the leader lunged for Elissa immediately, but it was soon apparent that he didn't have much experience with a blade. She parried and dodged his blows easily, but made no effort herself to attack. Behind them, the other bandits were falling rapidly, and it wasn't long before the leader realized his position.

"Alright! We surrender!" His remaining men dropped their weapons and he himself glared at Elissa quite forlornly. "We're just trying to get by before the darkspawn get us all!"

"Get by?" Elissa scoffed, lifting the point of her sword. "You're a criminal!"

"Yes, yes," the leader said huffily. "I admit it, I'm a criminal. I apologize."

Elissa poked him in the chest with her sword, "You're tongue does you no credit," she replied. "Now hand over everything you've stolen."

The leader held up his hands to further prove his surrender, and gestured for his fellows to bring forward the chests. One handed Elissa a bulging money pouch. "That's all the coins we've taken. The rest is in the chests. That's all, I swear."

She gave her companions a look that they somehow understood, and Morrigan and Alistair began emptying the trunks. As for the bandits, she lifted her sword away from the man's chest and instead laid it across his shoulder near his neck. "I don't want to see or hear of you around here again," she said slowly. "And if I find out you've been pulling this little scheme elsewhere, I won't be so nice."

"Bless you!" He said shakily, eyeing the blade at his throat. "The darkspawn can have this place!"

"And one last thing," Elissa told him. "Make sure to spread the word: that if the Grey Wardens wouldn't even kill you miserable excuses for men, then we would never have betrayed the king we respected. Teyrn Loghain is a liar and usurper." She sheathed her weapon. "Now start running and never come back."

The bandits needn't be told twice. Within moments their retreating backs were mere spots in the distance.

"And that's why I don't want to be in charge," Alistair said to Morrigan, as they continued to rifle through the trunks. "There's no way I could have pulled that off."

"Well, I would have to agree with you on that point," Morrigan replied. "You just don't have that level of finesse."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I simply am agreeing with your self-assessment, or did I misunderstand your meaning?"

"You know you did, you evil ha --"

"ENOUGH," Elissa said loudly as she was suddenly reminded of her headache. The two fell silent and Elissa used the moment to empty the money pouch into her hand, counting the coins swiftly. Just over a sovereign in silvers. She closed her hand over them, thinking about Lothering.

"You're not going to keep that are you?" Alistair asked slowly, hoisting his newly filled bag to his back and eyeing the money pouch.

"And why shouldn't we?" Morrigan cut in, swift as lightning. "He did hand over everything to us and money is more useful to us than this rubbish." She stood and kicked the chest closed.

Alistair glared at her. "Are you joking? Its stolen. Robbed off the poor sods fleeing the darkspawn. We keep it and we're no better than those bandits."

"We have ensured those men will never steal again! Surely we have earned our due in taking care of them?"

Elissa tuned out after that. She returned the coins to the pouch and turned her back on her companions, walking swiftly towards the town with only Argent trotting along with her. They were only about fifteen minutes out at this point, but Alistair and Morrigan bickered about the money the entire way. Lothering was never really a very attractive town: it had always served as a market village for the outlying farms. But now it seemed uglier than ever. Tents had been pitched in tight clusters everywhere there was space, mud-covered refugees huddled around their few possessions, and a few guardsmen were scattered about trying to keep order as best they could.

When they reached the village, Elissa did not hesitate in finding the chantry. It was easily the biggest building, and noticeable by the large symbol of Andraste nailed to the front. It was this that she headed straight for and just outside it she found what she was seeking: a donation box. Over it a sign had been posted, reading, "All contributions will fund the reconstruction of Lothering and its farming communities." She dumped the entire pouch's contents into the box, effectively ending the argument behind her. She turned back to her companions. Alistair looked pleased, Morrigan's face was neutral.

"Now," Elissa continued, eyeing them warily. "I want to talk about what we're going to do next."

"Actually," Alistair said, "I have been giving that some thought."

"Is that so?" Morrigan responded first, smirking. "You haven't been contemplating your navel this entire time? You certainly have been staring at it a good deal."

Alistair scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. "Is my being upset so hard for you to understand? Have you never lost someone important to you? Just how would you feel if your mother died?"

"Before or after I stopped laughing," was Morrigan's reply.

The two Wardens gaped at her for a moment, before Alistair continued, "Right. Very creepy, forget I asked. I suppose this is when we're shocked to discover that you've never had a friend your entire life?"

"I can be friendly if I desire to," Morrigan said, lifting her eyebrows. "Unfortunately, in your case, desiring to be more intelligent does not make it so."

Alistair opened his mouth to reply furiously, but Elissa interrupted him. "I'll tell you something," she said in a low voice. "I've just about had it with the two of you. You're both acting like children, and if you continue to do so I will treat you as such." Now the pair looked rather ashamed at being scolded. "I know you don't like each other, and I'm not asking you to kiss and make up. But if you can't have a conversation without harping on each other, then so help me I will sew your lips shut myself. Do I make myself clear?"

"I apologize, Elissa," Alistair mumbled. "And I'm sorry, Morrigan, for calling you an evil hag."

Morrigan did not reply, only continued to glare daggers at what seemed to be nothing in particular. Alistair appeared as though he wanted to say something in reaction to this, but thought better of it, and instead returned to his original thread. "I - uh - think what Flemeth suggested is the best idea. Those treaties we have come from three different groups: the dwarves in Orzammar, the Dalish Elves in the Brecilian Forest, and the Circle of Magi. The treaties obligate them to help us during a Blight, so we're guaranteed at least a token force. I also think that Arl Eamon is out best bet for help. We may even want to start there."

Elissa considered this, then turned to her second companion. "Morrigan, what do you think?"

The witch looked a little surprised at being asked for her thoughts, but did not hesitate. "Go after your enemy directly," she said simply, as if the matter were obvious. "Find this man, Loghain, and kill him. The rest of this business with the treaties can then be done in safety."

"Yes, he certainly wouldn't see that coming," Alistair retorted sarcastically. "And its not like he has the advantage of an army, and experience, and --"

"I asked for my opinion, and I gave it," Morrigan said over him. "If your wish is to come up with reasons why something cannot be done, we will stand here until the darkspawn are upon us."

Elissa glared at her companions, who got the hint and fell silent. "That's enough, I mean it." She looked up at the sky where the sun was just reaching its pinnacle. "Alright, here's what I want to do. I think we should stay here the rest of the day and resupply, maybe help out some of these people. If Loghain really put a price out on our head, it wouldn't be a bad idea to do some manual labor, maybe earn ourselves some favors."

"Excuse me," Morrigan said at this, sounding disbelieving. "Have we come to Lothering to solve every squabble in the village? My, but won't the darkspawn be impressed."

The junior Warden slapped a palm to her face, squeezing the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Then go to the inn and relax, if you must," she replied, struggling to remain calm. "Or else charge for your services, but what I said stands. We need to earn rapport if we're to resist Loghain's warrant for arrest, and the only way I can see to do that is try and right some of the wrongs going on here in town."

Morrigan regarded her with distaste and stalked off, calling over her shoulder, "I'll be at the tavern when you've decided to stop licking the dirt off the toes of these peasants."

Elissa threw up her arms exasperatedly, and presently she could feel Alistair's hand touch her shoulder. "I agree with you for what it's worth," he said gently. "You can't blame yourself that she's just a cold-hearted --"

"Alistair," Elissa interrupted. "If you're to play nice with her, you can't call her names in front of me either."

"Aww," her friend pouted, but he was smiling. "You're really cracking the whip, aren't you?"

"I have to, if I'm to survive traveling with the two of you," she replied, turning her attention to the Chanter's board next to the donation box. There was a notice nailed to it, offering a reward in exchange for driving off or otherwise killing the bandits that were preying on the villagers outside of town. At the bottom it said to contact a Ser Bryant once the task had been completed. "Well that was easy," Elissa said, turning to walk into the Chantry proper, Alistair in step beside her.

The inside of the building was just as crammed full of refugees as the rest of the village had been. There were children sleeping between bookshelves in the library, and adults huddled in dark corners swapping rumors, while a chanter stood at the back of the church, reading out passages from the Chant of Light. In the center of the building stood a group of templars, giving reports and receiving orders from one who seemed to be in charge. It was this man that Elissa headed towards.

As she approached, the other templars bowed themselves away, and the leader said, "Yes, my lady? Who might you be?"

She did not hesitate, "I am the Grey Warden, Elissa Cousland."

The shock in the man's eyes at her forthrightness was evident, and at her side, Alistair shifted his weight nervously, but she held her ground. "I... see. Ah - I am Ser Bryant, commander of the Lothering templars." Bryant eyed the pair of them. "Teyrn Loghain declared all Grey Wardens traitors, responsible for the king's death. You know this, I hope."

Elissa folded her arms over her chest, leveling her gaze at the templar. "I have indeed been apprised of this rumor, but I am here to state quite plainly that the Grey Wardens did no such thing."

Ser Bryant gave her a calculating look, but otherwise betrayed no emotion. "I don't believe the Grey Wardens would be as careless or malicious as the teyrn claims," he said slowly. "But either way, there it is. Perhaps it would be best if you not linger, though. Just... in case."

Alistair sighed defeatedly, but Elissa was not ready to concede the entire village. "About those bandits on the highway," she said quickly, eager to change the subject. It proved a wise decision, as the templar's focus shifted completely.

"Maker's breath!" He exclaimed in frustration. "How many times must we drive them off?"

"One less," Elissa replied firmly. "My companions and I drove them off ourselves."

"Its true," chimed in one of the other templars who had been hovering nearby. He stepped closer, offering a smile and salute to Elissa. "I saw the bastard running for the hills myself." Elissa smirked to herself, pleased with her handiwork.

Bryant now smiled at the Wardens. "That is an impressive feat," he said. "Will you accept a small reward in exchange for your efforts?"

Truly glad Morrigan was not here to witness this, Elissa held up her hands in protest. "The refugees in this village need it more than we. Your thanks is enough."

The gratitude was clear in the templar's voice now, when he said, "That is very generous of you. If it interests you, there is a chanter's board outside full of quests that need doing. The chanters even offer pay for some of them." He touched Elissa's shoulder. "I apologize for the rampant rumors about you Wardens, but if you help us I'll personally see to it that some of them are put to rest."

"For that we would be most grateful," Elissa replied, crossing her arms over her chest and bowing respectfully. "It is our only goal to stop the Blight, and it will be hard if we are to be hunted for a bounty."

Ser Bryant nodded. "Check the board and see me once the tasks have been completed. I'll make sure you won't be harassed by the villagers at least."

Elissa nodded and beckoned to Alistair, who followed her back out into the sunlit courtyard of the chantry building. "See what I mean?" She said to him in a low whisper. "A little kindness will go a long way in the end for us."

"I agree," Alistair replied. "But if Morrigan hears you turned down payment..."

"Perhaps its best she decided not to aid us," Elissa said, continuing to keep her voice down in case the witch was still about. "I'm beginning to think that she'd have done us more harm than good here in town."

The two shared a private laugh as they wandered back to the chanters' board. There were two other notices nailed beneath the one about the bandits: the first was regarding a small clan of bears who had killed a child in the fields on the north side of the village, the task was to kill them and retrieve their skins; the second concerned locating any remains of a woman who had been slain around the same area the bears were said to be located. After reading over the two, Elissa looked at Alistair. "You up to taking on a few bears?"

Alistair smiled goodnaturedly. "After darkspawn, a couple of normal beasts are nothing. Perhaps we might find this woman out there."

"My thoughts precisely," Elissa agreed. She tore the notices from the board and pocketed them to signify they were taking the jobs for themselves. Together, the pair began walking towards the north side of the town. After several long moments of silence, Alistair broke it.

"Alright, alright! Enough with the third degree! I can't take it anymore!" He looked rather guilty. "It was me. I laughed when that man called you pretty -- but it's not what you think!" He hastened to add upon seeing Elissa's icy glare. "I was only laughing because he was just trying to butter you up so that you'd do what he wanted." He looked at her hopefully. "But I knew you were much too smart for that."

Elissa stared at him skeptically, but she couldn't hold onto it: Alistair's puppy face won her over. She shook her head, smiling. "Nice save."

"It's the truth!" He protested, looking immensely relieved that she wasn't angry.

"Sure, I believe you," she replied, brushing away a stray lock of hair that had fallen across her face. "But just for that, I get to ask you a question about yourself and you have to answer." He swallowed nervously, and she took a moment to consider what she wanted to know. She decided she dared ask something that could potentially be sensitive. "So you said this Arl Eamon raised you?"

Alistair choked on the swig of water he was taking from his canteen. "Did I say that?" He coughed, blushing. "I meant dogs raised me. Giant, slobbering dogs from the Anderfels. A whole pack of them in fact."

Even Argent gave a little whine of protest at this, while Elissa lifted an eyebrow. It was just as she suspected: he hadn't meant to mention that the Arl raised him while at Flemeth's hut yesterday. She opted to play along for the moment. "Really," she replied with a sarcastic amount of enthusiastic curiosity. "That must have been tough for them."

"Well, they were flying dogs, you see," Alistair said, clearly pleased to continue the joke. "Surprisingly strict parents, too, and devout Andrastians to boot."

"That is what they say about Anders," responded Elissa as they passed through the creaky wooden fence that signified the end of what the refugees were calling the "safe zone." Just outside of this was a rounded cage, taller than a human male, which was occupied by a large man with dark skin. He was paying little attention to his surroundings; in fact his eyes were closed as he muttered words under his breath in a language she didn't understand, but sounded and felt like a prayer. Presently, Alistair had continued rambling, clearly oblivious to the prisoner, and Elissa put the man out of her mind.

"Or did I dream all of that? Funny the dreams you'll have when you sleep on the cold, hard ground, isn't it?" He turned to her. "Have you had any strange dreams lately?"

"Only the ones where we're having lots of sex in my tent," Elissa replied offhandedly. She got the desired effect. Alistair turned beet red and choked on his next words; that was certainly not a response he had been expecting. She laughed openly, which only caused him to blush more and in desperation, he turned the topic back to Arl Eamon.

"Lets see, how do I explain this? I'm a bastard. And before you make any smart comments," he added quickly, seeing Elissa's mouth open for a retort. "I mean the fatherless kind." He poked her in the ribs which caused her to squirm away, and she suddenly realized that she was giggling. She immediately stopped, wondering at herself. She had never done something so... ladylike. She wasn't sure if she should be proud or repulsed. Alistair eyed her curiously, but continued, "My mother was a serving girl in Redcliffe Castle who died when I was very young. Arl Eamon wasn't my father, but he took me in anyhow and put a roof over my head. He was good to me, and he didn't have to be." He kicked at a rock on the ground as they walked along, searching for the river where the bears were last seen. "I respect the man and don't blame him anymore for sending me off to the Chantry once I was old enough."

_Does that mean you blamed him at one time_? Elissa wondered to herself. Out loud she asked, "Why did he send you to the Chantry?"

"Arl Eamon eventually married a young woman from Orlais," Alistair said, picking at the frayed hem of his shirt. "The new arlessa resented the rumors which pegged me as _his_ bastard. They weren't true, but of course they existed. The arl didn't care, but she did. So off I was packed to the nearest monastery at age ten. Just as well. The arlessa made sure the castle wasn't a home to me by that point. She despised me."

"What an awful thing to do to a child," Elissa replied in disgust, wondering how she ever managed to get upset over her fights with her own mother.

Alistair, however, merely shrugged. "She felt threatened by my presence. I can see that now. I can't say I blame her. She wondered if the rumors were true herself, I bet. The arl came by the monastery a few times to see how I was, but I was stubborn. I hated it there and blamed him for everything... and eventually he just stopped coming." He lapsed into silence, staring off into the distance. They were marching up a rise and down below them, the river was coming into view, dark shapes moving at its bank. "I had an amulet with Andraste's holy symbol on it," he said after a few moments. "It was the only thing I had of my mother's. I was so furious at being sent away I tore it off and threw it at the wall and it shattered." He shook his head. "Stupid, stupid thing to do."

Elissa touched his back, giving him a sympathetic expression. "You were young."

He attempted a smile, comforted. "And raised by dogs! Or I may as well have been, the way I acted. Anyway, that's really all there is to the story." He cocked his head at her. "Why do you ask about him?"

"I was just wondering who turned you into such a tease," Elissa replied, with a smirk.

Alistair chuckled. "Ah yes, that would be the dogs' influence, believe it or not." He sighed and scratched Argent's ears absently, who had trotted up next to him as they walked. "All I know is that the arl is a good man and well-loved by the people. He also was King Cailan's uncle, so he has a personal motivation to see Loghain pay for what he did. Now --" he clapped his hands together, suddenly businesslike. "Lets take care of these errands and be on our way, shall we?"

The errands themselves proved to be a little more difficult than either Warden had anticipated. The bears were easily dispatched, and they indeed found the remains of a woman, though they were forced to slay the pack of wolves that were bound and determined to devour her. To complicate matters, it seemed that the highwaymen Elissa and her companions had cleared away earlier that morning were not the only bandits preying on the village. A much larger group of men had set up three outposts on the northern side of the town to pick off any stragglers that had wandered beyond the safe zone. These brigands were disorganized, but better equipped; they even had a few mabaris amongst them though none could hold a candle to Argent, who tore through them handily. Elissa was all too glad to fill her magic bag with their gear and stolen goods, for though she did not like to admit it, there was a mild concern that they would run out of money if she kept refusing payment for their work. They were even able to recover a decent set of chainmail that was a vast improvement on the armor Alistair had been wearing. He informed her that he had been using it since he joined the Wardens.

It was nearly evening by the time Elissa proclaimed herself satisfied that all of the bandits had either been forcibly removed or slain, and with that the pair decided it was time to return to town for the night. Again, as they neared the border fence, Elissa could not help but notice the strange man in the cage. Though many hours had passed, he still was murmuring to himself in what she presumed was his native language, and he was rocking back and forth slightly. She wondered how long he had been there. There was nothing for it, she decided finally, she had to know.

Alistair was chattering happily about his new chainmail, but Elissa held up a hand to stop him as she tentatively approached the cage. As her shadow fell on his face, the man opened his eyes and looked down at her with a sort of curious annoyance. "You aren't one of my captors," he said in a deep, rumbling voice. "I will not amuse you any more than I have the other humans. Leave me in peace."

Behind her, she could tell Alistair wanted to know why they were bothering with the man, but she did not allow him the chance to speak. "You're a prisoner, then?" She asked tentatively, peering up into his face. "Who put you here? Why?"

The man regarded her quite cooly. "I am in a cage, am I not?" He said in response to her first question. "I've been placed here by the Chantry. I am Sten of the Beresaad -- the vanguard -- of the qunari peoples." Sten paused there to take a deep breath. "I have been convicted of murder."

"And are you guilty?" Elissa asked before she could stop herself.

Sten folded his arms over his chest. "Are you asking if I feel guilt, or if I am responsible for the deed? However I feel, whatever I've done, my life is forfeit now."

Elissa hesitated, thinking hard. From what she understood about the qunari, they were a race of fierce warriors, but had little room for remorse or mercy. And yet this man seemed almost penitent for the crimes he had been accused of. "Aren't you interested in atonement?" She said finally.

"Death will be my atonement," the man replied. "I would prefer to die in battle, but my choices have been made."

"There are other ways to achieve redemption, you know," Elissa said, imitating him and crossing her arms. Sten remained silent, so she pressed on. "For example, you could help me defend the land against the Blight."

Sten raised his eyebrows. "The Blight? You are a Grey Warden then?" He scoffed, moving his eyes to Alistair instead. "Surprising. My people have heard legends of the Grey Wardens' strength and skill... though I suppose not every legend is true"

Elissa supposed this was a slight on her gender. She chose to ignore it. "Would the revered mother release you?"

The qunari shrugged noncommittally. "Perhaps if you told her the Grey Wardens need my assistance. It seems as likely to bring my death as waiting here."

She took another moment to consider the weight of her options. She didn't much like the idea of leaving anyone in a cage and waiting for the darkspawn to fall upon him, however she likewise did not suspect to gain much goodwill with the people to free a convicted murderer. Either way, he was a qunari, and their prowess on the battlefield was the stuff of legends. He could prove a useful asset... if she could bring herself to trust him. She glanced back at Alistair, who looked neutral. "Sten of the Beresaad, I intend to have you released so that you may aid our efforts against the darkspawn, and in turn find your atonement. But if I am to do that I need to know I can trust you enough to turn my back to you. I need your oath on the blood of your people that you will not harm either me or my friends, nor anyone I deem an ally."

Sten stared at her silently, as if he was only just now seeing her. After a few tense moments, he placed his hand over his heart and bowed his head slightly. "I swear it."

Elissa nodded. "Then I will speak with the Revered Mother now." She turned on her heel and continued her trek back into town. Within moments, Alistair was back at her side whispering his concerns.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing? The qunari have been trying to invade Thedas for years now. That man hates our kind, he could just as easily kill us and rob us before we even turn our backs. We've no reason to trust him."

"He gave me an oath," Elissa replied wearily. "On the blood of his people. The qunari are honor driven, he will not break his promise." They reached the chantry and walked in without breaking stride. Ser Bryant was still there, seeing to refugees, so they waited until he was finished before approaching him.

"I see you've returned!" The templar said when he spotted them. "And judging by the state of you, you have certainly tended to some of the troubles of the village."

Elissa nodded and rummaged in her pack for the bear skins. "The clan of bears have been slain, as requested. And we also found this." She extracted a necklace that they had retrieved as a token from the poor woman who had been killed. Bryant took them from her, giving his thanks as he tucked them away for the moment, and Elissa continued. "We also found another contingent of bandits staked out there, but they too have been taken care of."

Bryant looked impressed. "Well, Grey Wardens, you have certainly earned your keep here. As promised, I will try to curb those who might seek the bounty on your heads. Is there anything you would ask of us in exchange for your kindness?"

"Yes, I would like to speak to the revered mother, if that is possible."

"Of course," Ser Bryant replied, pointing to the back of the chapel. "You will find her in the library, feel free to see yourselves in. I must attend to the refugees." He bowed himself away, leaving Elissa and Alistair to find their way to the library. Two templars were stationed dutifully outside it, but the door was open, welcoming any who might seek an audience with the revered mother.

When the pair entered, the woman smiled up at them from her chair. "Will you be making a donation to the chantry, my friends? You look like you have salvaged more of value than most who make it here."

Elissa reached in her money pouch and retrieved five gold coins. "I hope this is an acceptable tithe," she replied meekly, holding the money out.

The Mother was not completely able to mask her shock at such a large sum, but accepted the coins into her hand. "The poor souls of Lothering will weep at your generosity. Thank you! What can I do for you, then?"

"I would like to talk about Sten," Elissa replied slowly. "The qunari you have imprisoned."

Immediately, the Revered Mother's demeanor changed. She stood and turned away, dropping the coins into a lockbox on the desk. "It might have been kinder to execute him, but I leave his fate to the Maker. Why does he interest you?"

"Is there any way I can convince you to free him?"

The woman looked disgusted. "Do you know what he is convicted of?" Elissa shook her head and so she continued. "He butchered an entire farmhold. Only one of the youngest hid long enough to survive. The child said his father found the qunari wounded from battle and took him in. That kindness was repaid with murder. The bann's men found the qunari just... standing amidst the carnage. He did not resist them."

Behind her, Alistair muttered, "Honor driven?" Elissa ignored him and instead asked the Mother, "Are you certain he did it?"

"He confessed quite readily," the older woman replied. "But would give no excuse for the crime. Even the seasoned knights who apprehended him were disturbed by the carnage. However docile he appears, do not be fooled. That qunari is a danger." She shook her head. "I am sorry, but if I were to free him his next victims might count you and me as their murderers."

Elissa chose her next words carefully, "I am a Grey Warden, in need of aid against the darkspawn. I was thinking you might release him into my custody."

The Revered Mother frowned. "A Grey Warden? Oh dear. I will have to ask you to leave before you bring trouble on our heads."

The junior Warden stepped forward. "Now, think of the donation I have just made to your chantry," she said with just the faintest edge in her tone. "I have also spent my entire day tending to quests that might save the citizens of Lothering. If you've any doubt of that, please ask Ser Bryant, he can confirm it. I do not intend to bring trouble here, but I ask that you remember who caused all of this suffering: the darkspawn. It is the sworn mission of the Wardens to end the Blight and defeat the darkspawn. The qunari is a warrior, and I need as many good hands as I can find. If you do not release him to me, I will be forced to Conscript him."

Alistair gaped at her and the Revered Mother looked a little ashamed of herself. "I... apologize for my caution. It seems amidst the hardships, I have forgotten where the true enemies lie. The Conscription is not needed; perhaps defending against the Blight is a form of atonement. Very well, you have convinced me." She pulled a key off the key ring hanging on her belt and handed it over. "This is the key to the cage. Take the qunari away. I pray this is the right path, for all our sakes."

Elissa bowed, "Thank you, Revered Mother. I will see to it that the man atones for his crimes." She turned on her heel and left without another word.

Sten seemed rather surprised when they returned not ten minutes later holding the key. "I confess, I did not think the priestess would part with it," he said in his deep voice as they approached. However, so be it. Set me free, and I will follow you against the Blight."

"Remember your oath," Elissa said, with a note of steel in her voice. "You have already proved you underestimate me, but it would not be wise to. If I detect any trace of a betrayal, I will kill you myself."

The qunari glared icily at her. "I would not break my oath. In this I will find my salvation. I am not so proud, nor so bloodthirsty, that I would risk my soul for your life."

Elissa nodded, oddly comforted by that thought. She put the key in the lock and turned it. The bars swung open and Sten stepped out with a deep breath. He tilted his head to the dying sunlight and closed his eyes. He murmured more words in his own language, blocking out both Elissa and Alistair while he prayed. After several long moments he opened his eyes and looked at them both. "It is done. So let us proceed. I am eager to be elsewhere."

~~**~*~**~~

STEN OF THE BERESAAD

Those who speak of this mighty qunari warrior do so with both great respect and great fear. He was unabashedly powerful, cleaving his way through the waves of darkspawn with almost alarming skill and speed. He was always easiest to spot amongst the group, for his sheer size alone. He towered over the other companions, especially Elissa, who only stood at 5'3 herself. There are those that marvel at Elissa's ability to control the qunari, for he physically dwarfed her in every way. However, it seemed that Sten seemed to regard her highly, despite his outward coldness to all. It is known that she saved his life from a gruesome death at the hands of the darkspawn, and for that he agreed to follow her into battle against the Blight.

Those close to the queen said that she felt a sort of closeness with Sten, that she understood him more than even he would admit. She respected his strength and drive, and more importantly she believed that he was truly penitent for his crimes. Whether or not she thought that his companionship during the Blight would truly be his salvation, it was clear that she made the right decision to save him. More darkspawn fell at his hands than any of the other companions, which is saying something.

After the archdemon's fall, Elissa even visited the qunari's homeland alongside him, to pay her respects to their people, though the king nor anyone else were permitted to accompany her. This was a source of great distress for Alistair, who never quite believed that Sten was trustworthy, however in the end Elissa convinced her husband to let her go. The trip was a great success and was a monumental step towards peace between the two nations.

When Sten passed, Elissa held a vigil for her former companion and called for her people to ever be reminded of his contribution to the war. "May we never forget the mighty Sten, who fought alongside us, bled for our cause, and slew many darkspawn. May we never forget the drive in his heart to see us through to the end. May we never forget you, my everlasting friend."


	6. The Journey to Circle Tower

Even at a distance, it was obvious that they would be lucky to get a room at the inn: it was full to bursting. It had taken a good deal of time to get Sten properly equipped, as he was so much bigger than a normal human being. Finally, they had managed to negotiate with a merchant to let go of a fine suit of armor that had once belonged to a tall knight. The weapon was easier to find, but harder to convince Sten to use. It seemed he had a very special connection to his personal sword, which had been lost before the chantry captured him. In the end, he agreed to carry a blade but did nothing to hide his disdain for it. It was dark by the time they were ready to turn in, and any refugees left on the street had crammed their way inside the inn.

Elissa massaged her forehead as they weaved their way towards the tavern, aptly named Dane's Refuge. Her headache was now closer to a migraine, and she doubted that the day's events were over. They'd be lucky if they could find one spare bed in the inn, much less four. But they would have to try. With a sigh, she pushed open the door to the inn and was not surprised to see a crowd assembled. The group had barely crossed the threshold when a man stepped forward from the throng, looked bad tempered.

"Well look what we have here, men," he said, scowling. "I think we've just been blessed."

"Loghain's men," Alistair muttered in her ear. "This can't be good."

Meanwhile, another solider had stepped up as well. "Didn't we spend all morning asking about a woman by this very description? And everyone said they hadn't seen her?"

"It seems we were lied to," said the first man, eyeing Elissa angrily.

There was a very pregnant pause while Elissa took in the situation and in the silence, a woman dressed in chantry robes spoke up. "Gentlemen, surely there is no need for trouble. These are no doubt simply more poor souls seeking refuge."

A poor cover story, seeing as how only a blind man could miss their blood spattered gear and well-used blades. She wasn't at all surprised when the commander scoffed. "They're more than that. Now stay out of our way, Sister. You protect these traitors, you'll get the same as them."

"Let's talk about this before things get out of hand," Elissa said, wondering how fast she could draw her weapons. She gave a quick look around, and gathered that a few more soldiers were waiting in the wings for their superior's command. Her sword and primary dagger were strapped to her back, but she had a secondary knife hanging from her waist. She put her hands on her hips surreptitiously, and when the chantry sister spoke, she used the opportunity to loosen the blade in it's sheath.

"I doubt he would listen," the woman was saying. "He blindly follows his master's commands."

The leader looked outraged. "I am not the blind one! I served at Ostagar, where the teyrn saved us from the Grey Wardens' treachery! I serve him gladly!" He turned to the soldier at his side. "Enough talk. Take the Wardens into custody. Kill the sister and anyone else that gets in your way."

It was what Elissa was waiting for. Before the other soldiers even had time to stand, her dagger was at the commander's throat. He stumbled back slightly, but Elissa held her ground. "Stand down, captain," she said, enunciating every syllable so that all in the tavern may hear.

The tension in the air was palpable. The soldiers looked from one another nervously, gauging whether or not they should move to strike, and the leader was glaring at Elissa with undisguised hatred. Several long moments passed in silence, and she pushed her knife tighter against his throat. Finally, the man could stand it no more. "Enough. We surrender."

Everyone relaxed and Elissa sheathed the dagger forcibly. No sooner was it away than the captain's arrogance back. "Do not think that because you have won here that we will stop hunting you. You Grey Wardens will pay for the murder of the king."

"The Grey Wardens did not kill King Cailan," Elissa replied coldly. "Loghain did."

The commander stepped forward so suddenly, that Elissa could hear blades being drawn all around, though he himself did not have his out. His face was right next to her's only inches away as he hissed, "I was there. The teyrn pulled us out of the trap that they Grey Wardens set when they led the king to his death. There was nothing the teyrn could do."

"Loghain didn't withdraw until after the signal fire was lit," Alistair said unexpectedly from behind her. "He waited until the darkspawn -- and the king -- were completely committed to the field. The Grey Wardens were nearly wiped out in the battle. The only reason he is declaring us traitors is because the two of us lived to bear testimony to his treachery. The Grey Wardens lost everything at Ostagar, while Loghain stood to gain everything. And for that, he left the king to die. What have you to say about that?" The man remained silent, still staring down Elissa, but she could tell he had been shaken by the Wardens' account of things. Meanwhile, Alistair's blade came into view at the man's side. "Now you will step back from Elissa."

The man did as he was told, and Elissa couldn't help but seal the deal by drawing her own sword from her back. "Start running," she said. "And don't come back."

There was a small stampede for the door as the captain and his men fled the inn with haste. In the flurry of movement, Elissa turned to Alistair. "Nicely done," she murmured to him. "Where did that come from?"

Alistair shrugged, grinning sheepishly. "Been picking up tips from you all day." His countenance grew darker. "Besides, the more I hear about what lies Loghain is spreading, the more I find I can't keep my mouth shut." Elissa touched her friend's shoulder sympathetically, and presently the chantry sister seemed she wanted to speak.

"I apologize for interfering," she said in a thick Orlesian accent. "But I couldn't just sit by and not help. However, I am glad you found it in your heart to offer those men mercy. Not many in your position would be so lenient."

"Let it never be said that they Grey Wardens kill needlessly," Elissa replied, loud enough so that the entire tavern could hear. She then turned her full attention to the sister. "I appreciate what you tried to do for us. I am Elissa Cousland."

The woman offered to hand to be shaken as she introduced herself. "I am Leliana, one of the lay sisters of the chantry here in Lothering. Or I was." She offered a very mysterious smile. "I know after what happened at Ostagar you Grey Wardens will need all the help you can get in fighting the darkspawn. That is why I am coming with you."

Elissa blinked, stunned. "Ah, I'm afraid the Wardens get into more dangerous situations than what a chantry sister might be used to," she said after a time. "Perhaps it would be wiser for you to stay."

"I have not always lived in the chantry," Leliana replied guardedly, and in a blink she had withdrawn a pair of knives that had been expertly hidden amongst the folds over her robes. "I have experience using these; experience that you could put to great use against the Blight."

The junior warden raised her eyebrows impressed. "Point taken, but why so eager to join us?"

Leliana smiled nervously, "The Maker told me to."

Elissa thought this was said in jest, and so she replied in kind, "The Maker is on my side? Welcome aboard, then!" She began to chuckle at the joke, when she realized that Leliana was not laughing.

"You believe me then?" The sister was asking breathlessly, and sudden Elissa felt horribly awkward. "Oh, I knew the Maker had sent a true dream! A vision, that by serving you, I serve His holy plan. Thank you! I appreciate being given this chance! I will not let you down."

"And here I thought we were all full up on crazy," Alistair muttered in her ear, and she stood on his toe in reply. He yelped in protest, but she wasn't listening. Instead she was thinking about their sleeping arrangements. If four beds had been unlikely, then five would be impossible. There was nothing for it, they would have to set up camp outside of town.

"Let's find Morrigan and move on," she said to Alistair. "We'd be lucky to find a stretch of floor to sleep on, much less beds, and the floor would be better served to some of these people anyway.

Alistair sighed. "Its going to rain tonight," he replied sadly. "I'm going to go see if we can rustle up some tents."

Elissa nodded. "Take Sten and Argent with you, there isn't enough room in here to swing a cat. Let's meet at the north border in twenty minutes. We have to hurry if we want to find a place to pitch camp before the storm starts up."

"You got it boss," Alistair replied and clapped Sten on the shoulder heartily, causing the qunari to glare down at him menacingly. "You heard the lady, big guy, lets get out of here." Elissa had to give him credit, as he steered Sten expertly out of the tavern, and before the door swung shut behind them, he could be hear saying. "So were you really in that cage for three weeks?"

After they were gone, Elissa turned to Leliana. "I hope this is truly what you want to do," she warned the other woman quietly. "As you saw, Alistair and I are hunted people. In addition to fighting the darkspawn, we may also be waylaid by Loghain's men. If you still feel like it is the Maker's will that you join us, then gather your belongings and meet us at the north border. If not, then stay here and do your best to aid these poor people. Lothering will not stand much longer and will need all the help it can get."

The sister bowed her head and she too left. Now there was only Morrigan. Elissa let her eyes rove over the tiny bar again, and this time she spotted the witch. She had settled herself in a dark corner. A mug was sitting before her, yet her eyes and attention were buried deeply in a book she was perusing. On hand was stuck out, twirling a small coin purse around on one finger. Elissa picked her way slowly amongst the refugees, rapping hard on the table when she finally arrived. Morrigan did not move her eyes from the page, nor did she give any sign she was aware Elissa was there. The Warden cleared her throat and said, "Might I ask where that came from?" She nodded at the money pouch.

"Payment for crafting a few poultices," Morrigan replied boredly. She turned the page.

Elissa sighed. "Well I'm glad you did something at least. In any case, we're moving out. Let's get packed up and on the road."

Morrigan finally looked up. "You are aware of the coming storm tonight, I hope?" Her tone was unabashedly condescending.

"All the more reason to cover as much ground as possible before it starts raining," Elissa replied sharply. "There's nowhere in this village to sleep, and if there was I wouldn't dare take it from one of the poor souls who need it. Now lets get going."

LELIANA

In retrospect, some say that the vision Leliana claimed to have had just before stumbling upon Elissa and Alistair in Dane's Refuge perhaps may not have been just some wild imagining as many thought it was at the time. After all, Elissa, with the aid of her companions and the armies under her command, brought about the end of the Blight, and it can be said that by defeating the archdemon, the Maker's will was served. Then, did Leliana receive the vision? She had no reason to join the Wardens when they arrived at Lothering, but instead gave up her life in the Chantry to lend aid to their cause.

Some speculate on Elissa's interpretation of this vision. When asked about it, she would only shrug and say, "It does not matter what I think. Everyone has a different motivation. As a Chantry sister, Leliana's is the Maker and the vision. It does not matter the cause, only the effect. And Leliana is very effective." This is a true statement, to be sure. It is a known fact that Leliana rarely wore anything but her Chantry robes in public, even opting to fight in them. Perhaps this was a feinting method, for very few would expect a sister to be so skilled nor so quick with a dagger. "Underestimation on the part of our foes," Elissa once said. "Was one of our key weapons." And in this regard, Leliana fight the bill.

Whatever motivation she may have had, whether the vision was real or not, Leliana remained evermore a most dedicated ally. She broke company with the Wardens only after their wedding to watch over the Ashes of Andraste, and even then she kept in contact. Once a year, Elissa and Alistair made a pilgrimage out to visit the Urn and their friend, the Chantry sister Leliana.

Twenty minutes later, they had all found their way to the north gate near the cage Sten had previously occupied. Alistair's pack was bulging with the three new tents he managed to purchase from the only vendor in town, and something about his dark look said that they hadn't been cheap to acquire. Leliana had not backed down from the challenge, and was also there with a full bag. When they all had arrived, Elissa looked around at the little ragtag group. Alistair, who was gazing at the grey clouds forlornly, Morrigan, who appeared as though she'd rather be anywhere else, Leliana looked nervous but determined, and Sten was expressionless. Argent sat at her feet, sniffing hopefully at her bag for treats. She gave a small smile. They may have been ragtag, but they were her companions now and she would be glad to have them all. "Let's get going," she said finally.

However, they had not made it far out of town before they were delayed again. Just outside the safe zone, blocking the entrance to the highway stood a group of peasants who were carrying torches and shoddy-quality weapons. Elissa hesitated as they approached. She didn't want there to be any trouble, but she felt like she knew what was going on. It seemed as though Bryant's message about Loghain's rumors had not quite reached everyone in Lothering. And sure enough, as they drew nearer….

"There they are," said one man who was holding a torch, and his fellows drew up beside him. "We heard what they've been saying about you folks. You're Grey Wardens, no doubt about it." He swallowed hard. "I don't know if you killed King Cailan and - Maker forgive me - I don't care. But that bounty on your head could feed a lot of hungry bellies." He stopped to look at his brethren. "ATTACK."

The mob began to close in on them and the company drew closer together. "Uh, Elissa," Alistair said nervously. "Your thoughts?"

"Don't kill them," Elissa muttered to her companions and she could hear Morrigan scoff. "These are just desperate people turning to desperate measures. Knock them out, but otherwise don't hurt them." She drew her weapons and moved forward, rotating the blades in her hand so that flat side was pointed out. In the deepening darkness she could see her companions do the same and then she was in the thick of things. The peasants did need more than one quick strike to the back of the head to knock them out cold, and even after only a few minutes, where twenty had stood, twenty laid in heaps on the ground.

Elissa sighed as they moved past the group. She had half a mind to drag the unconscious men back inside the safe zone, but there was far too many of them and in the distance lightning was streaking across the store with the coming storm. They shuffled on, and entered the highway. A sign read that a crossroads lay about a half hour's walk ahead, and Leliana informed the group that it would be an ideal location to set up their camp, as it was frequented and would be well-sheltered from the rain. They had not made it even half the distance when they were waylaid again with another obstacle. This time it was a group of darkspawn that had been raiding a merchant's tiny caravan. The genlocks were easily killed, and the dwarf repaid their kindness in a discount on his wares. Elissa heartily agreed to the arrangement, and even offered a spot in their camp as long as he and his son kept to themselves.

The promised rain held off long enough so that they could reach the pivotal crossroads outside of town. It was now essential that they formulate a plan, because their first destination would dictate which fork they would take. To the east was the Brecilian Forest where the elves lived, and Denerim beyond that. The upper western road led to Circle Tower and Orzammar, while the lower western road would take them to Redcliffe. When they reached the fork, Elissa decided to lay down camp so that they might have one more night to discuss which of their allies should be called on first. Leliana offered to cook for them; she had brought a few supplies with her from the chantry and with them she put together a fine stew enough for the five of them to feast on, and a little bowl for Argent. When they were all fed, Elissa put forth the question about their next move once more, and within ten minutes Morrigan and Alistair were at each other's throats again. Alistair was insisting on Redcliffe first, and Elissa could sense it was partially because he longed to see the Arl. Morrigan wanted to head in the other direction to seek out Loghain so that they might put a stop to the threat he placed on their lives. Furthermore, she argued, they could stop at the Forest and deal with the Elves on the way. Leliana had suggested taking the upper western road, and making a big loop around Lake Calenhad, starting with the mages, then the dwarves, and finally stopping by Redcliffe before heading east to the Elves and Denerim. Sten gave no opinion, and only said he cared not for where they went as long as there were darkspawn to kill.

Elissa let her companions argue for a time while she mulled over their ideas in her head, tracing a finger idly over the map of Ferelden Leliana had brought with her. She slowed her hand over Denerim. Loghain aside, Arl Howe would also be there. It would be so easy to pay him a visit and repay him for the murder of her family. She had enough capable companions on her side now, he wouldn't stand a chance. No, Elissa scolded herself. The Blight, the archdemon first. Revenge second. She sighed and took her hand away from the map, instead laying it on Argent's head. She scratched his ears, lost in thought. Arl Eamon would be the easiest, that much was true. Hadn't Duncan said that the Arl had been preparing to send his own forces to aid in the defense of Ostagar? The elves she didn't know much about, but the dwarves had been fighting against the darkspawn their entire lives. Their city was planted atop the Deep Roads, from whence scores of darkspawn spilled every year. Would their own experiences make it easier or harder to convince them to help? Then there was the mages, who had sent a unit of their own to Ostagar where they too had been slaughtered. Most likely they would be hesitant in offering more help. Especially if they believed Loghain that the Wardens were responsible for the massacre.

"Enough," she said loudly and immediately the argument between Alistair and Morrigan died down. She leaned forward, spreading the map out on the ground before her. Everyone leaned in. "We're going to start with the hardest first." She brought her finger down on Circle Tower.

"The mages?" Alistair replied, tilting his head. "They won't be the hardest, they've already offered to help us out once."

"Exactly," Elissa said, leaning back. "They sent many of their own to their deaths at Ostagar, and it's not like their numbers were very high to begin with. And if they've heard about Loghain's bounty on us, they won't be very keen to help us. They'll need convincing, and who knows how long that could take. I'd rather take care of them first, and the more time we give them, the more time they have to train up any last minute initiates. We can spare them a few days even, and if they don't agree then we'll have to move on and come back when we have a more convincing argument."

There was a moment of silence as everyone considered this. It was Alistair who spoke again, "You're right, of course. And I suppose by this plan of action you'll want to visit Orzammar next?"

Elissa smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I know you were looking forward to going to Redcliffe, but the Arl is already willing to help us. We need to spend our time enforcing the treaties." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "When we get to Circle Tower, we'll send a courier to the castle to let him know to prepare. After we've left Orzammar we can stop by for a day or so on our way to Brecilian."

Alistair didn't seem very pleased, but could offer no other reason to go to Redcliffe. Soon after, they stretched out a piece of tarp between three trees to protect the fire from the oncoming rain and drew straws for watches. Leliana took first, Elissa second, and Sten third. Alistair and Morrigan did not draw a watch, so they were allowed a full night's rest. Morrigan smirked at this and once again dragged her belongings to the far side of the encampment to sleep. Alistair pitched his tent next to Elissa's near the fire, but didn't say anything to her as he disappeared inside it. She sighed at his retreating back as she crawled into her bedroll without changing. She wanted to formulate a proper apology to her friend for not respecting his desire to visit the Arl, but the pain of her headache and the length of the day quickly overcame her.

A rotting dragon looms over the Deep Roads. Beneath him marches an army of his minions and he lets out an unearthly roar, one that shakes the very foundations of the earth. They can feel his call within their very blood. "Go forward, my children," he is saying. "Go forward and take back the land of men." The demon screeches again, and the sheer power of it is enough to stop the hearts of his own kind. Some fall, and those that remain continue the march to the surface.

Elissa awoke with a start. It wasn't a very cool night, but she was shivering and when she touched a hand to her forehead she felt a cold sweat glistening there. She pushed herself into a sitting position, ignoring Argent's whine of protest, and glanced out of the tent flap at the sky. It couldn't nearly be time for her watch yet, but she knew also that she wasn't going to be able to sleep after that dream of hers. She shivered at the thought of it and pulled herself out of her bedroll so that she could sit next to the fire while she waited for her watch.

She was surprised to find that the fire had not been abandoned. Alistair was sitting next to it, wearing only his bedclothes. She took a seat near him and began warming her hands. For several long moments they were silent, until he said, "Bad dreams, huh?" His tone was flat, and lacked the warmth she was used to hearing. He must be angry.

"It seemed so real," she replied slowly, almost afraid to look at him.

He heaved a sigh. "Well, it is real... sort of." His voice was still dry, but it was no longer cold. "You see, part of being a Grey Warden is being able to hear the darkspawn. That's what your dream was. Hearing them. The archdemon... it 'talks' to the horde, and we feel it just as they do. That's why we know this is really a Blight." He paused and fed another log to the fire, and she chanced a glance at him. His face was unreadable. "It takes a bit but eventually you can block the dreams out. Some of the older Grey Wardens say they can understand the archdemon a bit, but I sure can't. In any case, when I heard you thrashing around, I thought I should tell you. It was scary at first for me, too."

"Thank you, Alistair," she said quietly, staring at the fire.

Elissa could feel his eyes on her. "That's what I'm here for. To deliver unpleasant news and witty one-liners." He went silent, but didn't move away, which she took as a good sign. They sat in uncomfortable silence for several long moments, and when it became unbearable, she knew she had to say something.

"Alistair," she began, choosing her words carefully. "I want you to know that... I'm not trying to hurt your feelings or personally attack you by not going to Redcliffe."

He looked at her, surprised. "I know that," he said, but his expression and tone had softened considerably. "I've just been thinking a lot about home, I guess. This is the first real time in my whole life that I've been able to be in charge of where I go and what I do." He looked at his hands in his lap. "It's been a long time since I've spoken with the Arl. I guess I thought this was my chance to see him, put things right. But instead it's up to us to stop the Blight, and if we don't then who else will? It's a lot of responsibility, you know? Putting your selfish desires aside for the greater good." He lifted his gaze back to her. "But it doesn't make you want them any less."

Elissa moved a little closer and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hugging him tight. She could feel him stiffen, but she didn't move. "I wanted to go to Denerim," she murmured. "So I could kill Arl Howe for murdering my family. But, like you said, it's up to us." She fell silent again and his arms wound around her, hugging her back, and she realized that she had never been embraced like this before. Her father didn't give many hugs, and she hadn't let any man get close enough - physically or emotionally. It felt wonderful. They held onto each other for a few moments, then broke apart, and when they did Alistair was smiling again.

"I feel like a total jerk," he said. "I forgot that you're the one making all the tough decisions. And Morrigan wonders why I don't want to be in charge."

Once again, they both went quiet, but this time Elissa felt completely at ease. The rain was a steady beat against the tarp over head, but the fire held up. She wondered how long was left before her watch, though she didn't really want to go back to sleep. She turned her attention to Alistair who was poking the fire absently. The glow of the flames lit his face in such a way that he looked almost ethereal, and before she was aware of what she was doing she murmured out loud, "Has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?"

Alistair turned to look at her and she could feel herself blush. "Not unless they were asking me for a favor," he said slowly, giving her a calculating expression. "Well, there was that one time in Denerim, but those woman were... not like you." He adopted his customary grin. "Why? Is this your way of telling me you think I'm handsome?"

She wanted to cover her face and retreat back into her tent. Instead, she tried to match his easy smile. "Oh stop playing coy," she heard herself say. "You know you are."

"Maybe," he replied, nudging her gently. "It doesn't hurt to have a pretty girl say that though. Beats being run through with a sword any day." He gave her a little sideways glance. "Is this the part where I get to tell you the same?"

Elissa lifted her eyebrows. "You think I'm handsome?" She teased.

Now Alistair was blushing. "You see, that line sounded a lot better in my head, and now I realize the flaw in it," he muttered sheepishly. "I meant to say --"

"I know what you meant," she interrupted, feeling a little uncomfortable. She wasn't sure how she would feel if he did say what he meant. "Don't say anything if you don't think it's true."

"Oh, I think it's true," he insisted, still blushing. "I guess I'll just have to spring it on you when you least suspect it."

Elissa could think of nothing to say about this, so she decided to change the subject. "So, ah, how much time left until my watch?"

"Oh you've got a while yet," Alistair replied, stretching his unshod feet towards the fire and leaning back on his hand. He wiggled his toes as he warmed them. "You weren't in there very long. You should try and get some rest before it's time."

The idea of going back to sleep with the archdemon to haunt her dreams was not very inviting, so she said, "And miss out on this great bonding time? As if." She folded her arms behind her head and laid back against the soft earth, making herself comfortable. "Tell me a story," she murmured, closing her eyes. "Tell me something about yourself."

"My life wasn't really interesting up until six months ago," came Alistair's voice softly somewhere to her left.

Elissa opened one green eye to look up at him, a playful smile on her face. "So make up something exciting."

He chuckled. "You know, I like the way you think." He paused while he thought of something to talk about. "Let's see, shall I tell you about why I have remained a templar?"

"Oh, yes, do share."

"Well," he said slowly. "Have you seen the uniform? It's not only stylish, but well-made. I'm a sucker for good tailoring."

Elissa laughed, both eyes open now while she gazed at his profile. He did not disappoint. "Oh really? Does this have anything to do with how you look - oh how did you put it? - 'rather fetching in a dress?'"

Alistair snorted. "Steel-trap mind, yours," he muttered, grinning. "Sadly no, but we can't wear that heavy plate all the time, can we? In private we have these yellow and purple tunics, right? Much more comfortable, and you don't break the beds when you jump on them during a pillow fight."

She flipped over onto her side, facing him and propping her head up on one hand. "You had lots of these pillow fights, I take it?"

"On confession day we could go all night." He grinned down at her. "We should have one, one of these nights. I think it could relieve some of the tension." He gazed off towards the fire. "I wonder if I could get away with using a sack filled with rocks on Morrigan -- kidding! Just kidding!" Elissa lowered the arm she had raised to smack the back of his head and he lapsed into silence. "The truth of the matter is," he continued in a more serious tone. "I did hate going to the monastery. The initiates from poor families thought that I put on airs, while the noble ones called me a bastard and ignored me. I felt like Arl Eamon had cast me off, unwanted, and I was determined to be bitter. But I took some solace in the training itself, I guess. I was actually quite good at it."

Elissa regarded him appraisingly. "So what can templar do, anyway?"

"Essentially they're trained to fight," Alistair began. "The Chantry would tell you that the templars exist simply to defend, but don't let them fool you. They're an army. The other main purpose for a templar is, of course, to hunt mages. To that end, we train in talents that drain mana and disrupt spells."

"Could others learn these skills?" She asked, fascinated.

He shrugged noncommittally. "Perhaps, but there usually isn't much of an opportunity. The Chantry keeps a close reign on its templars. We are given lyrium to help develop our magical talents, you see... which means we become addicted. And since the Chantry controls the lyrium trade with the dwarves... well, I'm sure you can put two and two together."

Elissa sat right up, gaping at him. "You can't be serious?" He nodded solemnly. "That's horrible! I can't believe they would do that!"

"Well, they do it," he replied bitterly. "And they feel perfectly justified. You don't need lyrium in order to learn the templar talents. Lyrium just makes templar talents more effective. Or so I was told. Maybe it doesn't even do that. The Chantry usually doesn't let their templars get away either, so they can spread their secrets. I'm a bit of an exception. Lucky me."

"So... does that mean... you're addicted?" She whispered gently.

Fortunately the question was answered with a shake of his head. "Lyrium is only handed out after you take your final vows, and I never got that far. Duncan conscripted me before I became a full-fledged templar. Not to mention, he felt my templar abilities might be useful for when we encountered darkspawn magic, so I kept it up." He looked over at her with a small smile. "What about you? Do you have anywhere you consider home?"

Elissa considered this. Less than a fortnight ago she had been lying in her bed at Castle Cousland, worrying about what sort of social engagements her mother would force her to make an appearance at and scheming a way to sneak off to join the Garrison at Ostagar. But Highever couldn't be her home anymore; Arl Howe would be sure to have her murdered on the spot if she showed up there. In the end she managed to return his smile reluctantly. "I guess my home is with the Grey Wardens now. With you."

Alistair blushed and she could feel her heart skip a beat for just a moment. "It is? I.. like the sound of that." His smile widened and Elissa felt rather than saw his hand move to hers. Her heart raced faster. "This is our home, then," he murmured. "We won't always be traveling like this, you know. Once the war is over, once the Blight is... well, a time will come when we'll have to think about having a real home again." He turned his eyes to her and they sparkled in the firelight. They didn't say anything else for a long time, only sat with each other, their hands not quite holding but tentatively touching. After a time, Alistair took one of her hands between both of his and squeezed. "We've both lost something to this," he said quietly. "Something precious. I'm sorry I doubted you, I won't do it again. I trust you." He took his hands away and Elissa felt the great loss of warmth that had swelled up inside her. "I think I'll turn in now." He stood, stretching, and looked down at her with a relaxed smile on his face. "Goodnight."

The moment he had disappeared into his tent, Elissa collapsed backwards against the ground, her palms pressed over her face. What am I doing? She asked herself. Twenty one years and I've never even so much felt as a butterfly, and now with the Blight on my hands, now I have to feel something? She moved her hands and stared up at the underside of the tarp, listening to the rain beat down against it and sorting through her thoughts. Finally she consoled herself with the fact that he didn't think her calves were thick, at least not that he's said out loud.

She laid there quietly for a while, comforted by the soothing sounds of the rain, and for a moment she thought she could almost fall asleep. But then an image of the rotting dragon flashed across her mind and she pinched herself. After several long minutes, she decided to find Leliana and relieve her early. She couldn't sleep as it was, may as well let the poor girl get her own rest.

The companions had set up a second tarp out away from the fire for the watchers, and it under this that Elissa found Leliana parked under, twirling her daggers idly. Elissa made a great show of making herself known to the sister, for she did not much like the idea of being on the opposite end of those blades. Something told her that Leliana had not been bluffing back in Lothering; she really could fight. Fortunately, she did not either startle easily and made space under the tarp as Elissa approached. "What are you doing up," the sister asked as soon as the two were near enough to hear each other over the pouring rain. "I still have an hour left on my watch."

"Can't sleep," Elissa replied noncommittally, dragging a hand through her short hair to shake out some of the rainwater. "Thought I would cut you a break and give you an extra hour. Or at least keep you company for a while."

"How about, we split the difference," suggested Leliana with a pleasant smile. "I do not much like the idea of cutting my first watch duty short, but I cannot help but miss the warmth of my bedroll."

Elissa chuckled. "Well, fair enough, then I'll stay here for half an hour, and then you can get your beauty rest."

"Deal!"

It was a few moments before either of them spoke again. Leliana seemed determined to prove that she was a keen observer whilst on her watch, and kept turning her head towards any sound that might be heard through the storm. Elissa was content to unbraid her hair and shake it out more thoroughly before retying it. When she had completed this task, she decided to make conversation about something she had been wondering about. "So, if you don't mind, I'd like to know more about this vision of yours…."

Leliana's head snapped around to face the Warden, looking a little embarrassed and wary. "I knew this would come up sooner or later." She sighed and turned to fully face Elissa. "I do not know if I can even fully explain, but I will try. I had a dream…. It it there was impenetrable darkness. It was… so dense… so real. And there was this noise; a terrible, ungodly noise. I stood on a peak and watched as the darkness consumed everything, and when the storm consumed the last of the sun's light… I fell, and the darkness drew me in." She stopped, her eyes far away. Elissa waited patiently for her to continue, for surely there was more to this story. Then Leliana continued, "When I woke, I went to the Chantry's gardens, as I always do when I need clarity and peace, but that day I noticed the strangest thing: the rosebush in the corner had flowered. Now, everyone knew that rosebush was dead. It was grey, and twisted, and gnarled, the ugliest thing you ever saw. And yet, there it was: a single, beautiful rose." She drew her knees up to her chest as she collected her thoughts. "It was as though the Maker stretched out His hand to say, 'Even in the midst of this darkness, there is hope and beauty. Have faith.'

Elissa didn't say anything for a few moments afterward, and Leliana paid her silence no mind. To be honest, she didn't quite take the sister's dream to mean that the Maker had told her to help the Wardens end the Blight. "And that made you want to help me?" She heard herself asking aloud.

"In my dream," Leliana replied. "I fell into the darkness, but maybe… I jumped. All I know is, I would do anything to stop the Blight." She turned her eyes to the Warden. "I know we can do it. There are so many good things in the Maker's world. How could I sit by while the Blight devours everything? Did I fall or did I jump? This time I decided to jump into the darkness to try and find it's end."

And then Elissa understood something. It didn't matter if the dream had actually meant that the Maker wanted Leliana on this quest. What mattered was that Leliana was determined to stop the Blight, just as much as she or Alistair were, that she wanted to save that rosebush and every other living thing because if they didn't stop the Blight… the world would be consumed. Elissa smiled at the sister, comforted. "I couldn't sit by either," she reassured her.

Leliana returned the smile, grateful that Elissa hadn't called her crazy or some other such thing. "That is why you are a Grey Warden, no?" She stood, slightly at the crouch so she didn't disturb the low-hanging tarp. "Now, I think I shall take up on your offer of an early night. But I will not forget this favor. I owe you company and a few extra minute's rest. Goodnight, my friend."

Elissa nodded and her companion disappeared into the night, her form silhouetted against the fire, crouched and running against the harsh rain until she found the safety of her tent.

The watch itself passed relatively uneventfully until the last hour, at which point Elissa was sorely regretting her decision to avoid sleep. Her eyes itched with tiredness and she felt jumpy, though there had been no signs of activity all night. The storm had almost blown itself out, though the wind was now sweeping droplets of cold rain underneath the tarp, so in addition to being exhausted she was also wet and cold. She had made a small fire to keep her legs warm and was just thinking it couldn't hurt to take a small nap, when the sound of snapping twigs behind her made her nearly jump out of her skin. Her longsword was out before she could even remember drawing it, her eyes combing the darkness to her rear. There stood… Sten.

It took every bit of effort not to slap a palm to her face, for she felt very embarrassed at being caught so fidgety during a quite boring watch period. She flopped back down on the ground near her pitiful fire, shoving her sword back in its holster with more animosity than she meant.

Sten, however, did not seem put off by this, nor did he make any move or effort to move under the tarp, for all the good it was doing her. He didn't say anything for several long moments, and when he did, "Your watch is over now. Go to your tent and sleep."

Elissa frowned. Had she lost track of time? There was no way to know from the sky, what with the clouds moving over it with plenty of ambition. No, she was almost certain there was still three quarters of an hour left. She had been just bemoaning that fact to herself when the qunari had snuck up on her. "As much as I appreciate the offer, I still have a bit left. Thanks, though, you get your rest."

"I have rested enough," said Sten in his deep voice. "If I were in charge I would demand that we pack up camp immediately. You, however, are the leader, and you have not slept sufficiently. Go, now. I will take my watch early."

The Warden frowned at the man, trying to make sense of him and failing. It was almost kind, his offer, yet at the same time she was wary for a reason she could not put to words. Finally, she decided that there was nothing for it. She was exhausted, and would be of no use tomorrow if she did not get some rest soon. "Very well then, I'll go now." She quickly stamped out the fire, and ducked out from the tarp. It was only drizzling now, so she did not immediately feel compelled to run to her tent. As she passed the qunari, she instinctively laid a hand on his forearm, which was crossed over his chest sternly. He flinched at the touch, but chose not to look at her, even when she thanked him and bade him goodnight.

Back in the peace and safety of her tent, Elissa quickly removed her leathers, now soaked through and through. She dressed in her own bedclothes and laid out her armor to dry without much hope. As she crawled into her bedroll, blessing it's warm sanctity, she reviewed all that she had learned that night. Sten's honor, Leliana's vision, Alistair's life as a templar, the visions Grey Wardens receive, and her own… feelings.

She turned over and pressed her face into her pillow, and with such thoughts chasing themselves in her head, the archdemon dare not disturb her again.

According to Leliana, who seemed to have a very well informed lay of the land, Circle Tower was three days away on the upper western highway. The journey itself was markedly unnoteworthy, and all of the companions save for Leliana made sure that Elissa heard their complaints. By the time Circle Tower began looming on the horizon, Elissa had reminded them all of their mothers as she scolded them without abandon for their childishness, and even went so far as to separate Alistair and Morrigan for a time after a particularly heated squabble.

Morrigan, it seemed, was just as mean to everyone else as she was to Alistair. She and Sten had words not long after the qunari discovered Morrigan had magic. Apparently Sten despised all mages, and Alistair was quick to voice his support of Sten's verbal abuse of them, though Elissa was quite sure the Warden himself did not feel that way. Leliana was not so quick to have words with the Witch, however, the ice between them became palpable after Morrigan had made a great show of insulting the Chantry. Elissa began to wonder if the benefits of Morrigan's magic outweighed the way she drove stress levels sky high.

Needless to say, Elissa was more than looking forward to escaping to the sanctity of the tower and putting her mind to enforcing the treaty, rather than mull over Morrigan's childish arguments. It was late evening by the time they reached the tower, but the companions were eager to press on: none of them much favored the idea of staying another night on the ground. It had been a relatively quiet day; fewer darkspawn bands the farther they traveled north, and Morrigan seemed in a high enough spirits as to not feel compelled to bother anyone, with the result that as the little band approached the dock, Elissa found herself in rather a nice mood.

"Do you ever wonder why the mages built their tower at Lake Calenhad?" Alistair was saying conversationally. "Do they have an aversion to practicality or something?"

Elissa and Leliana chuckled at the joke, and the former felt herself almost naturally taking the lead as they came up to the dockhand. However, she had not even begun to introduce herself as to put forth her request before the templar called out rather short-temperedly, "You! You're not looking to get across to the tower, are you? Because I have strict orders not to let anyone pass!"

Instinctively guessing that whatever reason this man might have for not letting them cross could not possibly be good, Elissa arranged her face delicately into an expression of mild irritation. "And why not? We have business in the tower."

"No one gets to the tower," barked the templar. "No one! The tower is off-limits to all!"

"This is official Grey Warden business, now let us pass," Elissa replied, scowling and folding her arms over her chest.

The templar looked less than impressed. "Grey Wardens huh? Prove it."

Elissa heaved a sigh and turned back to Alistair, "The treaties, if you would?" Alistair nodded, fumbling through his pack for the stack of scrolls, slightly crushed from all the activity since they were first placed there. He rifled through the papers, and handed the one labeled "Circle of Magi" to Elissa, who turned back to the templar. "I have this document here, you see?"

"Yes? Oh, a Grey Warden seal." The man inspected it thoroughly, and just when Elissa was thinking that it would be enough to convince him, he went on in his most condescending tone yet. "A-ha. So you're claiming to be one of those. You know, I have some documents, too. They say I'm the queen of Antiva. What do you think of that?"

Behind her, she could here a collective slap of palms hitting faces. But Elissa was far to used to these games, being a player herself, "Aren't queens female?" She chose to reply with a smirk.

The templar scoffed, suppressing a blush. "Don't question royalty!" He shot back expertly. "Now, it was nice chatting with you, but you'll be on your way now. Right now. Go."

"Your superior will not like that you have given me trouble, Ser...?"

"Carroll," he said, almost as though he had forgotten the hostilities. "And you think Greigor would be upset with me for not letting you in?" Ser Carroll scoffed at this, as if to say the idea were laughable, but a moment later he actually seemed to consider the accusation. "Wait, come to think of it, he would. Good point." He took a moment to size up the group. "He's the big guy around here. I'm sure he could deal with a Grey Warden; alleged Grey Warden. Well, you want I should take you there now?"

"Yes, please do," came Elissa's exasperated reply, and the templar indicated for the group to file onto the small boat. There came a brief moment of panic as Sten stepped aboard that they might be too heavy, but it seemed that some sort of magical enhancement had been placed upon the vessel, and soon they were all squeezed inside. As Ser Carroll made about paddling them across the lake, Morrigan leaned in close to Alistair.

"Well, I never would have thought I would have met a man more obnoxious than you, but I must admit this one is quite your match."

"I'm thrilled to hear that," Alistair replied dryly, turning his attention pointedly away and Elissa sighed with relief that the conversation did not continue.

The ride itself was short, and within ten minutes the tiny boat broke the shore next to a magnificent set of stone steps leading up to the tower proper. Ser Carroll directed them up, but hastily returned to his post, and the company was left to enter the tower alone. The moment they had stepped inside, however, there was the immediate sense that all was not as it should be. They had entered into a small foyer, nothing more than a welcoming chamber, and yet 20 or 30 templars were crammed inside it, milling about and talking in hushed whispers amongst themselves. The only other doors out of this entryway were barred closed from this side, and two more templars were stationed outside it, eyeing the wood as though it might explode at any moment. In the center of all this, stood a templar giving orders that the group was able to catch as they moved toward him.

"...and I want two men stationed within sight of the doors at all times," this man was saying hurriedly. "Do not open the doors without my express consent. Is that clear?"

The other templars saluted and scurried away, allowing Elissa to step forward and catch the superior's attention, "Excuse me, are you Ser Greigor?" The man gave a sign of assent, and so she continued. "What is going on here?"

Greigor looked upon the company warily, "We are dealing with a very delicate situation," he replied vaguely. "You must leave now for your own safety."

"I am afraid we cannot do that," Elissa said, holding up the Circle's treaty. "The mages have an obligation to the Grey Wardens."

"I am weary of the Grey Wardens' ceaseless need for men to fight the darkspawn," said the templar with a great sigh. "But, it is their right. However, you will find no allies here. The templars can spare no men, and the mages are... indisposed." Elissa gave him a shrewd expression and he seemed to concede that it would do no good to conceal the truth. "I... shall speak plainly: the tower is no longer under our control. Abominations and demons stalk the tower's halls."

Sten made a grunting noise, "And this is why we cut the tongues of our mages in Par Vollen."

Greigor sighed, "I will admit to agreeing with your companion. Maker knows the qunari would not have gotten themselves into this position."

Elissa waved a hand quickly and pressed on, not eager to pique Morrigan's temper and draw attention to her. "How did this happen?"

"We... don't know," came the hesitant reply. "We only saw demons hunting templars and mages alike. I realized that we could not defeat them and told my men to retreat." He folded his arms behind him and turned his back to the group, gazing at the barred doors. "I have sent word to Denerim, calling for reinforcements and the Right of Annulment."

Behind her, Alistair made a tiny noise of shock, and so she turned to him for an explanation. "The Right of Annulment," he began quietly, "basically gives templars the authority to neutralize the mage Circle. Completely."

"The mages are probably already dead," Greigor said. "Any abominations remaining in there must be dealt with no matter what. This situation is dire. There is no alternative -- everything in the tower must be destroyed so it can be made safe again."

The circumstances did seem extreme, but to Annul the Circle did not sit right with Elissa. "The mages are not defenseless," she protested. "Surely some must still live."

"If any are still alive the Maker Himself has shielded them," replied Greigor, sounding unconvinced. "No one could have survived those monstrous creatures. It is too painful to hope for survivors and find... nothing."

"Then you do not have to. I will go in and search for survivors." No sooner did the words leave her mouth, than did she wonder if it was the best course of action. She had never faced an abomination, but she did know that even one was enough to throw the best of templars into a panic, and certainly there would be more than one inside. "I must try," she heard herself continuing, as if trying to convince the templar as well as herself. "It is the right thing to do."

Greigor gave her an appraising look. "A word of caution then," he said after a moment. "once you cross that threshold, there is no turning back. The great doors must remain barred. I will open them for no one until I have proof that it is safe. I will only believe it is over if the first enchanter stands before me and tells me it is so. If Irving has fallen... then the Circle is lost, and must be destroyed. May Andraste lend you her courage, whatever you decide." He turned and moved away from them, giving them privacy to discuss.

The company moved in close to her, giving her wary expressions, and it was clear that most of them agreed with Greigor: that the tower was lost and to enter would be akin to suicide. "I refuse to believe that the entire Circle is dead," she said defensively. "And I can't sit back and allow the templars to take away the last protection any survivors have: their magic. However," she sighed. "I will not ask all of you to come with me, if it is as perilous as it sounds." She lapsed into silence, considering, while her companions hovered silently nearby.

She was starting to feel slightly nervous, that all could be lost with one foolishly misplaced sense of justice for a hopeless situation. But she did come to the tower looking for aid in the Blight, and the mages were still the most powerful allies they could call on. If she helped them now, they would not be able to refuse the treaty.... However, it was still a highly dangerous task, one that could claim their lives. It seemed wise to arrange that only one Warden enter the tower, so that in case the worst should happen, the other would still live to hold the mantle. But again, she did not much care for the idea of sending Alistair in alone with Morrigan or perhaps Sten. And besides, he had a much better grasp of the Wardens, he knew where he could turn to for help if he needed it; she did not. So, it was decided, she would be the Warden to enter. Alistair wouldn't like that, but she would have to make him understand. As for who she should bring with her....

Elissa looked around at her companions, weighing their skill sets. Argent would be a given, she knew better than to expect him to leave her side. Morrigan seemed a good choice, her magic would be useful, though it might present her as a target to the abominations who thirsted for arcane power. She would simply have to trust the witch to hold her own. And with Alistair gone, she would need another with just as much physical ability has he did, which could only mean Sten. This arrangement seemed very agreeable. After all, in the even the three of them should fall, Leliana would compliment the role she, Elissa, once held with Alistair quite nicely. It pained her to think of this, but she could see no other way.

Drawing a deep breath, Elissa said slowly, not looking at her fellow Warden, "This is what I want to do. I will take Sten and Morrigan with me inside the tower. Alistair and Leliana, you hold on to the treaties and wait outside for us to return. If we do not... then it will be up to the two of you to see the remainder of them enforced." All around her there were sounds of protest being made, except the one she expected. "The most important thing is stopping the Blight," she continued, louder this time. "We can't have all of our necks on the line in there, it's too risky." She stopped there, and she could feel Alistair's hand close around her arm, tugging her away from the group.

"Why aren't you taking me?" He asked fiercely, and Elissa ached to see the pain and confusion in his eyes.

"Alistair," she began gently. "We have no idea what lies beyond those doors. Whatever it is had the capability to wipe out the entire Circle, and put the templars on high alert." She gave him a very serious look. "There is a good chance that we could die in there, and if that is the case, then someone needs to see through this Blight to the end. It is the Warden's duty, a Warden must survive."

He looked down, hurt. "So you would go to your death and leave me behind?" He whispered. "No, Elissa, I won't let you do that. I can protect you, us, we can go in there together and defeat whatever's in there. We're stronger together than we are divided right?" He was pleading with her. "If you go in there by yourself -"

"I won't be alone," Elissa interrupted him. "I'll have Sten and Morrigan."

Alistair scoffed, casting them both dark looks which they returned most enthusiastically. "You trust them over me?"

Elissa sighed, exasperated. She covered her face with a hand in frustration. "It's not about trust, Alistair," she whispered sharply, keenly aware of their companions eavesdropping without pretense. "This is about stopping the Blight. You need to go on, survive, no matter what happens to me, and see this through to the end."

"I can't do it alone," Alistair replied. "Not without you." He took both of her hands in his and she looked up into his eyes. "Please take me and I swear we'll both come out alive."

She sighed; she could see now that he would not take no for an answer. She hated him for it, and yet she felt oddly comforted about the task at hand to know that he would be at her side. There was still the possibility that both Wardens could die inside the tower, however. She shuddered at the thought. What then would Ferelden do about the Blight? There was always the Orlesian Grey Wardens to call on, but with Loghain in charge no such thing would ever be even considered. Presently she tried to smile, but it only came out a grimace. "Alright, Alistair, you will join Morrigan and I inside the tower."

Alistair looked as though he wanted to hug her, but he restrained himself and instead squeezed her hands in his. "Thank you, Elissa."

"Don't thank me yet, we could still be walking into our deaths," she muttered. "Give me the rest of the treaties." He scurried to obey and when all three rested in her hands, she turned to Leliana, speaking softly, "This might be much to ask of you, but I do not see any other option what with Alistair being as stubborn as he is. In the event that we do not make it out of there, I need you to take these treaties to the Grey Wardens of Orlais and tell them what happened."

Leliana smiled, "I shall safeguard these treaties for you, until you return. But Alistair seems genuinely dedicated to keeping you safe. I do not believe he would fail you."

Elissa could feel her face start to flush and she turned quickly to Sten. "Sten of the Beresaad, should I not return from this task, it is my wish that you accompany Leliana in her travels as long as she seeks to stop the Blight. I believe that in aiding her you will find the atonement you seek."

Sten regarded her coolly, but nodded wordlessly, and so she looked back to her chosen companions on this fool quest. Alistair looked hardened and determined, while Morrigan appeared to regard the task as nothing more than a stroll through the Wilds. "Alright, let's go." And with that she led the way to the barred doors.


	7. The Fade

A/N: I hate everything about this chapter and I'm sorry if it shows.

* * *

An ominous and final sort of clanging sound rang through the still air of the tower proper as the great doors thudded closed behind Elissa and her companions. The rank smell of stale blood flooded her senses and to say that the atmosphere was foreboding would be an understatement. All along the corridor, signs of the struggle were apparent everywhere. Doors ripped off hinges, the dormitories littered with the mages' belongings that had been ravaged and strewn about, and the body of a templar lay mangled and burned before them.

Argent gave a sharp sort of whine, bringing Elissa back to her senses and after she had taken the grim scene in, she turned to her companions. "Search for survivors and scavenge whatever supplies we might need. This won't be easy." The three split up to search the first few rooms, but whatever they hoped to find, they were disappointed. Here and there lay the remains of a mage or a templar, beyond any hope of healing, and as for provisions there was scant to be found. The odd poultice or potion, but little else, and Elissa conceded to move on, bitterly discouraged.

They had not progressed much further down the circular hallway when a loud roar broke the eerie silence, followed by an explosion that sounded magical. The three barely had time to exchange looks before they tore off toward the source of the noise, Elissa praying that they had finally found living mages.

The sight the companions were met with was a terrifying one. There was indeed a small group of mages, many of them children, huddled together in an open ante-chamber of some kind. In the far doorway leading out of this room towered the first abomination Elissa laid eyes on. It was a gruesome thing, over seven feet tall and made of molten lava it seemed. It almost had no shape to it, save for arms ending in sharp and deadly claws, and a mouth near the top which was howling in anger as it neared the mages.

Elissa was on the point of rushing forward with her weapons to engage the monster, when a mage she recognized emerged from the group and stepped before the demon, drawing it's attention to her. She succeeded in that regard; it quickly focused on her, advancing with an intent one could only guess at. However, before it was able to reach the woman, she hastily cast an intricate spell and magic burst forth from her, slamming into the abomination and effectively destroying it. Then without a second thought, she began to cast again, and over the doorway from whence the creature had come a hazy blue light began to glow. Elissa was not magically inclined to say the least, but even she recognized it to be some sort of barricade. She did not have long to ponder this, however, as the mage had turned toward the companions, and Elissa realized why she had recognized her: it was Wynne, one of the Circle mages to answer the king's call at Ostagar.

"It's you!" She said in disbelief, apparently recognizing Elissa as well. "No... come no further. Grey Warden or no, I will strike you down where you stand!"

The Warden held up her hands to indicate she meant no harm to the mages, though it hardly seemed to calm them. "Wynne, it's only I and my companions. We're here to help. What are you doing here?"

Wynne lifted her eyebrows. "I am a mage of the Circle, am I not? But more importantly, why are _you_ here? The templars would not let just anyone by, not to 'help,' as you claim."

"We're helping Greagoir resolve the Circle's difficulties," Elissa replied quickly, hoping to assuage the woman's concerns. But her words seemed to have the opposite effect. Wynne's face darkened even more.

"Then you do serve the templars as I feared." She gave Elissa a hard look. "Do they have the Rite of Annulment?"

"No, but Greagoir expects to to arrive soon. That is why I am here," she hastened to add. "I hoped to find and aid the survivors before the templars conceded the tower."

Finally, Wynne's face seemed to relax and she regarded the junior Warden appreciatively. However, her tone and words were not lighter to say the least. "So Greagoir thinks the Circle is beyond hope," she said with a sigh. "He probably assumed we are all dead. They abandoned us to our fate, but even trapped as we are, we have survived. If they invoke the Rite, however, we will not be able to stand against the creatures."

"What happened here," Alistair asked in a solemn whisper, his eyes on the frightened children in the corner.

Wynne shifted her gaze to him now. "Let it suffice to say that we had something of a revolt on our hands, led by a mage named Uldred. When we returned from the battle at Ostagar, he tried to take over the Circle, using our weakened state to his advantage. But as you can see, it didn't work out as he had planned."

"But how did you escape from Ostagar," Elissa pressed, burning with curiosity. "We thought certainly that we were the only survivors."

"To the contrary," said Wynne. "There were many. When it became apparent that the reinforcements were not arriving as planned, coupled with the horrific sight of Cailan's death, those fighters toward the back of the ranks decided it best to save themselves and flee. Mages included."

"You... saw the king die?" Alistair said softly. "How-"

Wynne held up a hand, halting the inevitable question. "It is not a pleasant story, and not one I would like to share now. We must attend to the matter at hand." She turned away from the little group, facing the glowing blue doorway. "As you can see, I have erected this barrier to prevent more demons from coming through. I will see to it that it stands as long as they control the rest of the tower. However..." She paused, appraising them each in turn. "I believe that together we can save the Circle. It is possible that we can eliminate the rest of the abominations and lead the survivors out."

"Do you... think there are any mages left?" Elissa asked quietly, to which Wynne lowered her eyes and sighed.

"It is possible. I collected all I could, but in my haste to save the children I may have overlooked more. I will say that the demons seem to be coming from the upper floors of the tower, and I did not venture very high." She looked up once more into Elissa's eyes imploringly. "I ask you again for your aid. Once Greagoir sees that we have made the tower safe, he will tell his men to back down. He is not unreasonable."

Elissa hesitated. "Greagoir said he will only accept that the tower is safe if the first enchanter says so."

"Then our path is laid out before us," was Wynne's reply. "We must save Irving. He is a powerful magister, he will not have fallen easily. But we cannot waste any more time. I will not be able to hold the barrier after we have entered the tower, but if we slay all the fiends we encounter on our way, the children should remain safe here."

"Very well... if you think that is best."

"Now wait just a moment." It was Morrigan this time, and she did not sound very happy. Elissa should have known better than to think she would have stood by this whole time without having _something_ to say. "You want us to assist this... preachy schoolmistress to rescue these _pathetic_ excuses for mages? They, who allow themselves to be corralled like cattle, mindless." She pointed at the group in the corner, who shrank into the shadows even more. "Their masters have chosen death for them and I say let them have it."

The Wardens stared at the witch in disbelief. Did her cruelty know no bounds? Elissa spared a glance at Wynne and was surprised to see that the older woman's face was a calm, detached mask, so she spoke, choosing her words very carefully, "You could have been one of them, had things been different."

Morrigan scoffed at this. "If that were so, why, I am sure I would have flung myself from the top of this tower years ago. I will allow neither mind nor body be subjugated in such a dehumanizing fashion."

"Yes, well, not everyone is like you," Elissa replied coldly, hoping to put an end to the argument.

However, Morrigan was not done. "And that is made abundantly clear. Look at how they live: servants of the Chantry. They lack respect for themselves _and_ their power. Why should I respect them, much less risk my life to save theirs?"

"Enough!" It took every bit of willpower Elissa possessed to not shout. "Keep your poisonous thoughts to yourself. I have made my decision, we are going to help Wynne and look for survivors."

There was a very pregnant pause in which the two women glared daggers at each other. For a moment Elissa thought it was going to come to blows; her fingers twitched on the hilt of the knife at her waist. Finally, it was Morrigan who looked away, scowling. "Have it your way."

The awkward silence that followed this hung in the air for a few moments, before Wynne turned to one of the older mages amongst the group. "Petra, you and Kinnon are in charge of the others. I will return soon."

"Wynne... are you sure you are alright," the woman named Petra replied cautiously. "You were so badly hurt earlier. Perhaps I should come along and help."

Wynne shook her head. "The children need your protection more. I have the aid of the Grey Wardens on my side, I will be alright. Stay here... keep everyone safe and calm until we return."

Elissa tried to smile reassuringly at the youngsters, who looked so terrified. No child should see what they certainly had witnessed inside. "Have faith," she said with conviction. "We will not fail."

"Your confidence is refreshing," Wynne said under her breath. "But make sure it does not blind you to your weaknesses. If you are ready let us end this." She lead the way to the door jam enshrouded in blue haze and held her hand up, as if to release it. Before the glow dissipated however, she turned a last time to the companions, "I do not know what we might encounter beyond this barrier. Be on your guard." And with that, it fell. The safety of the children and the others was now solely in their hands.

* * *

SENIOR ENCHANTER WYNNE

The second mage among Elissa's collection of companions was not so quick to draw attention to herself, much unlike the witch, Morrigan. In view of the general public she was soft-spoken, kind, and much seemed to serve the roll as adviser to Elissa, on those occasions she needed it. Seldom did she protest or disagree with the Warden's choices, and was often a strong voice of support for them.

In battle, it is said, she performed the same roll. While her magic did not have a high damage output, again unlike her counterpart, she specialized in healing spells. She quickly became a key member of the group for her ability to ensure her companions' safety and success in battle, a function Elissa often said she was most grateful for. Perhaps it is for this reason that Elissa ensured Wynne always remained close by, even until that very final battle with the Archdemon. However, others suggest a more sentimental reason.

It was wondered whether or not Elissa took to Wynne as something of a surrogate mother figure. There were times among their travels that Wynne was known to have been looked to not only for advice but for comfort, and she was even heard scolding Elissa, though what the topic concerned is unknown. And it was not only she who loved the old mage dearly, but Alistair was quite fond of her as well, and was delighted to have her at court to represent the Circle's interests.

Wynne did not last much longer after the Blight was ended however. Not two years after aiding the Wardens in the fight with the Archdemon, she passed. Allegedly at her request to avoid public recognition, a quiet, private ceremony was held in her honor, and only Elissa, Alistair and their former companions were permitted to attend.

* * *

As the four companions crossed through the doorway, they entered what once must have been a very fine library. It had been utterly ransacked; shelves overturned, books strewn about with their pages ripped right out of the binding. Here a table had been tipped onto one side, a leg missing; there some sort of magical device lay in many different pieces, beyond repair. They had barely made it a few steps when they were hit with their first wave of demons. They were unlike any other creatures Elissa had encountered thus far. They loomed tall over the average sized human and seemed to be made of some unholy amorphous mass. Elissa wasn't entirely sure she was doing much damage to the creatures until one let out an unearthly roar and exploded, leaving a cloud of burning ash in it's wake, and she assumed this must be how a demon died.

After the abominations had been dispatched, the group was eager to press on. The encounter had been a touch more difficult than what Elissa was used to, but not impossibly so. More importantly, if they could expect this level of occupation throughout the tower any remaining survivors were on borrowed time until they were eventually discovered. The library was expansive and covered the majority of the floor plan for the first floor; they found two more packs of the demons and in the quiet that remained after their deaths screams and sounds of battle could be heard overhead on the floors above. Elissa, Alistair, and Wynne exchanged a dark look (Morrigan was, of course, indifferent) and hastened to the second floor without delay.

They let themselves into a large, open room that was partitioned off near the back and appeared to be empty, but rustling noises behind the partition indicated otherwise. Elissa led the group forward cautiously, her weapons at the ready. However, as they crept forward, prepared for the impending attack, it became clear that whatever was moving around was not an abomination of any kind. In fact, as they crossed the partition Elissa saw that it was just another mage who was shifting equipment and boxes around, muttering to himself.

"Hello," Elissa said loudly, reticent to surprise a mage, what with the demons about. "What are you doing in there?" She had thought that the man would jump, yelp, or show some sort of surprise at having suddenly been come upon by a group of strangers, but he did not. Instead he slowly straightened himself from the box he had been bent over and turned to them, his face utterly blank and calm.

"Please refrain from going into the stockroom," he said in a voice as empty as his expression. "It is a mess and I have not been able to get it into a state fit to be seen."

Elissa stared at him, perplexed. "Who are you?"

"I am called Owain," the mage replied. "I manage the Circle's magical stockroom. I have been trying to tidy up, but there is little I can do."

"But... don't you want to get out of here?" Alistair asked, tilting his head. "Haven't you come across any abominations?"

Owain turned his eyes slowly to Alistair. "No. I suppose I should count myself lucky. I would prefer not to die. I would prefer if the tower returned to the way it was. Perhaps Niall will succeed and save us all."

"Niall?" Wynne said sharply. "What is he trying to do?"

"I do not know," the mage said in his monotonous tone. "He came here with several others, and took the Litany of Adralla."

Wynne sighed to hear this. "So it is as I feared. Blood magic is indeed at work here..." Owain shrugged at her. "Niall was in the meeting... he would know..." She turned to Elissa. "We need to find him. The Litany will give us a fighting chance against any blood mages we encounter."

Elissa nodded, feeling a little bit more on edge than she had before. Wynne's suspicions did nothing to calm her about what they had yet to face, but she had to remain level-headed. She looked to Owain, smiling reassuringly. "The barrier is down now and the demons barring your way have been slain. You should go downstairs with the others."

Again the mage shrugged. "The stockroom is familiar. I prefer to be here. I do wish you luck. Perhaps this will be over soon and things will return to the way they were. Goodbye." And with that he put his back to them, and continued about his work, so the group turned to leave.

"Wynne," Elissa muttered as they crept out of earshot. "What's... wrong with him?"

"He has been made Tranquil," came Wynne's reply, and seeing the Warden's confused face, she continued. "The Rite of Tranquility is a ritual that is performed on mages that are deemed too weak-willed to resist the call of the demons, or are else suspected of blood magic. In essence, the Rite severs the mage from the Fade. They can no longer dream, and thus are no longer in danger of becoming possessed by the demons, however..." She sighed. "As a side effect, it permanently damages their ability to feel emotions. It is why they are called Tranquil; one who has undergone the Rite can no longer feel such things as fear, greed, or ambition, as well as joy, love, and passion."

Elissa gaped at her companion. "That's awful!" She exclaimed. "To be told that you are too weak to enjoy life as you know it?"

"And what might the alternative be?" Wynne replied gently and Elissa rather felt like an apprentice receiving a lesson. "We mages have a great and terrible power. Oftentimes those who are made Tranquil reveal that they never wanted to be a mage, never had much desire to wield the arcane power they hold, which is likely why they are so susceptible to the demons' call inside the Fade. Tranquility is a life of peace, and with a little direction those who receive the Rite develop a sense of purpose that cannot be rivaled. You saw Owain's dedication to the stockroom. He lives an untroubled life, and we are all the better for not letting another mage succumb to possession or blood magic."

They fell into silence after this, as Elissa could not think of any rebuttal. She knew little about the abominations they faced, save for that they were created from a union of the Fade demons inhabiting a mage's body. Making a mage who was weak of mind into a Tranquil would not only ultimately save _him_, but those around him who might have been harmed should a demon be successful in possessing him; it was almost an act of mercy. But to lose one's emotions all together... Elissa stole a look at Alistair and shivered. She decided she didn't want to think about it.

After they exited the stockroom, they found themselves in more dormitories. These were more spacious and the furnishings suggested that perhaps these rooms were reserved for the more accomplished of the mages. They had not progressed far into these chambers, however, when a small explosion consumed the companions in fire. Over the din of the roaring flames, a number of voices could be heard casting spells in a sinister sounding tongue, and somewhere nearby Wynne shouted, "Blood magic!"

The magic certainly compounded the combat, and Elissa privately thanked the Maker for Wynne's healing spells. She was proving quite useful herself in the endeavor as a whole, making sure that the companions came to no harm. Between her and Alistair's templar abilities, the group finally managed to overwhelm the rogue mages. When the last of them fell, Alistair lifted his blade to strike to final blow, but the woman cried out, begging him to stay his hand. The Warden sighed, turning to Elissa for instructions, who stepped forward to stand menacingly over the maleficarum.

"Please," the woman implored desperately. "Please, don't kill me."

Elissa folded her arms over her chest. "The people you murdered didn't want to die either," she replied coldly. Even she was surprised at her own harsh tone, but she could not shake the conversation she just had with Wynne from her mind, nor the images of the terrified children hiding in the dark corners of the tower below.

"I... I know I have no right to ask for mercy," the mage said weakly. "But I didn't mean for this death and destruction! We were just trying to free ourselves! Uldred told us that the Circle would support Loghain -" Elissa and Alistair exchanged a dark look, "-and Loghain would help us be free of the Chantry. You don't know what it was like. The templars were always watching..."

"What you have done will only make things worse for future mages," came Elissa's sharp retort.

The mage looked stricken, "We thought... someone always has to take the first step, force a change, no matter what the cost."

"Nothing is worth what you have done to this place," said Wynne, frowning at her fellow mage, surely someone she had previously known and trusted.

"And now Uldred has gone mad," the woman continued, as if she hadn't heard her colleague. "We are scattered, doomed to die at the hands of those who seek to right our wrongs..." She looked up at Elissa then, almost hopefully.

Elissa, however, scowled, refusing to be played. "You know we cannot allow blood mages to live," she said and there was almost a sense of relish in the way the mage's face fell in horror.

"But, I - I would like a chance to atone for what I've done," she stammered fearfully. "Please, I beg you, if you spare me, I could escape and... seek penance at the Chantry."

"You know they'll never take you," Alistair chimed in. "They're very picky about who they let in. Harlots, murderers, yes. Maleficarum, oh no."

The mage glared at Alistair with barely masked hatred; clearly his use of templar magic had not gone unnoticed. "I just want my life... please," she added meekly to Elissa.

"And just how will you escape? More blood magic?" Elissa shook her head. "I have seen the result of your crimes, passed the bodies of innocents on our way through the tower. To let you live to continue this insidious practice while your victims lay dead would make me as guilty as you." She slowly pulled her knife from the sheath on her belt.

The mage let out a strangled cry, grabbing at Elissa's legs deperately. "No! Please don't kill me! I'll do something good with my life, I swear it!"

But Elissa had decided. She bent over the mage with her knife, and everyone turned away, not disagreeing with their leader's actions but unwilling to watch. There was a horrible squelching noise, followed by a muffled scream, and finally Elissa's voice, "Wynne, tend to her."

The companions looked back in surprise. Elissa had not killed her as they assumed she would - she had severed the woman's tongue. Wynne dashed forward and cast a spell to seal the wound while Alistair and Morrigan gaped at Elissa in shock. The junior Warden's face was dark, but hardened; clearly the experience had not been pleasant for her either. As Wynne moved away, Elissa spoke. "This has been your penance, blood mage. You have your life, and you will never befoul this earth again with your magic. Now get out of my sight."

The woman scrambled away, still sobbing. The companions remained in the room until after her moans faded away, all staring at Elissa uncomfortably.

"I'm not going to ask you to agree with what I did," she finally said softly. "But while I cannot let blood magic go unpunished, nor will I simply slaughter the penitent. If there is a better way, I am blind to it."

The others remained silent for a long while. Finally, it was Alistair who spoke, seeking to comfort his friend. "I was ready to kill her. You shouldn't be ashamed of mercy. Or justice." Elissa did not respond, not consoled in the slightest. Without saying anything she continued on down the length of dormitories, her companions following along behind her wordlessly.

The remainder of the floor was void of demons, but there was another small band of blood mages who chose to fight to the death rather than beg for mercy, much to Elissa's relief. They were also able to recover another survivor, a mage who had escaped by hiding in a closet. The third level was much the same as the others: demons lurking in corners, undead rising from the floors in rooms they initially thought were empty, and perhaps most sinister of all, templars under the control of the abominations began to appear. As they continued on to the fourth floor, it was this last form of domination that the companions had the misfortune to walk in on in progress.

This demon had the shape of a human woman, but with deliberate differences, such as legs that ended in cloven hooves, a long tail that swished back and forth, and instead of hair, atop her head was a mass of what seemed to be purple flames. She was naked and had a sultry, seductive voice, that lead credence to what classification of demon she was: desire. The group had stumbled upon her, working her magic on a templar to make him believe that they were a charming married couple with a handful of children. The demoness asked that they not interfere with the ritual, and posed to them that he was finally happy; that the man was resentful of his templar vows and with her, he could have the life he always wanted. Her manner of speaking was oily, and almost convincing, but the conversation ended in the demon's destruction. They were also forced to slay the templar, who was enough under her control to fight them at her command, and as the four walked away Morrigan actually managed to make them chuckle (if dryly) with her comment, "Truly a lesson for all those who consider marriage: apparently you can get your desire and still suffer horribly."

They had not progressed much further when they discovered another demon, and instantly Elissa recognized that this one was much more powerful than any they had encountered thus far. It too had a semi-human form, but only just. It was deformed in every way possible, from it's misshapen face to it's claw like hands. As the four came upon it, it turned to face them, saying in a dreary tone, "Oh look... visitors. I'd entertain you but -" it paused here to let out a wide yawn. "- too much effort involved."

Elissa forced herself to smirk, resisting the urge to yawn as well. "Killing demons is enough entertainment for me, thanks." She thought it would be impressive to draw her weapons, but decided against it. What would be the point?

"But why?" The demon asked. "Aren't you tired of all the violence in this world? I know I am. Wouldn't you just like to just lay down and... forget about all of this? Leave it all behind?"

Too late, Elissa realized the effect the creature's soporific voice was having on them. She spared a glance at each of her friends and saw that they looked so weary... but then, was it because of the demon? After all, she, Alistair and Morrigan had been traveling all day. It was the middle of the night now and they had been battling hard to come this far... she was surprised they had not collapsed in exhaustion already...

As if on cue, there was a thud behind her as Alistair dropped to his knees. "I can't keep my eyes open," he murmured. "I'm sorry Elissa, I just can't..." Another loud crash as he fell chest first to the floor, his metal armor clanging when he landed. He was fast asleep.

"Resist," Wynne cautioned the others, but even she seemed to be failing. She was hunched over and her voice was weak. "You must resist, else we are all lost..." Then she was gone as she too crumpled to the floor in a deep slumber.

"Why do you fight," the demon continued, and there was something in his tone that suggested he knew he had won. "You deserve more, you deserve a rest." He fixated his eyes on Elissa who had been struggling to keep her mind awake. "The world will go on without you..."

Vaguely, Elissa was aware of her body hitting the floor. The last thing she thought before she lost consciousness was that she had failed. She and her companions were completely under the sway of the demon, and now there was no one left... Then it was dark.

* * *

_My senses are reeling when I am next aware of myself. My head feels as though it has been filled with a dense fog, as if I had only just been woken from a dream that had not yet reached its conclusion. After a few moments and much mental struggling, I realize I am standing in a brightly lit courtyard of some kind with a vague sense of purpose to walk forward. I do so, unaware of how I arrived at such a place or what business I could possibly have here. As I reach the back of the courtyard, I come upon a short dais, on which is standing a figure... A man... Duncan! _

_His smile is warm as I approach him and in his deep voice he says, "Ah, there you are. I'm not disturbing you, am I?" _

_"I can't remember what I was doing," I reply quite truthfully. _

_Duncan's smile widens and it strikes me how odd it feels to see him do such a thing. "I'm sure you were simply deep in thought. You've been at Weisshaupt for some time now. Do you like it here?"_

I have? _I wonder to myself. But before I have time to ponder this thought much longer, I realize I am replying, "Yes, of course, it is a beautiful fortress."_

_"It will stand as a testament to the time when the Grey Wardens were needed to fight the darkspawn," says Duncan, looking at the walls of the fortress with fondness. _

_But his words don't quite sit right with me. I furrow my brow slightly, trying to make sense of it. "What do you mean? Don't we still have to fight?"_

_Duncan chuckles, "The darkspawn are gone, remember?" He asks, giving me a sympathetic look. "You were there at the last great battle. It was a triumph for all of us, bringing down the archdemon and setting the underground lairs ablaze." _

_I am deeply unsettled that I have no memory of such an occurence. I shake my head as if trying to clear it of the fog that still clouds it. "Then... what shall the Grey Wardens do?"_

_"Ah, the Grey Wardens shall be the keepers of history," says Duncan, an unfamiliar note of pride in his tone. "We shall tell tales and sing songs of a more tumultuous time, that others may rejoice in knowing that that time is past."_

_I cannot shake the feeling that all is not as it seems. I study Duncan's face, trying to grasp what it is about him that is causing me such disquiet. That smile of his that now seems like more of a smirk? The oily tone of voice that is almost trying to convince me of something? He seems to notice me sizing him up and I feel compelled to speak what is on my mind, "The Duncan I know would never rest on his laurels."_

_Duncan's expression does not change, does not even flicker, almost as if it is pasted on. "The Duncan you know was a man forged in the fires of war. I am different now, at peace. I have learned to be tranquil."_

_It is the word "tranquil" that brings me back to the senses I am only vaguely aware I had been missing. It all comes back to me in a rush: the mage tower, the abominations, and the sloth demon that had cast its spell... This could not possibly be real. Duncan is long since dead. I came to the mage tower to secure troops for the ongoing war against the darkspawn. Presently, I arrange my face in a scowl, "You are not Duncan. This is some kind of trick."_

_The creature with Duncan's face lets out a horrible hissing noise, "Foolish child," it says, not bothering to disguise its voice now. "I have given you so much and you cast it back in my face. Can you not be content with the peace I offer?"_

_I flex my fingers, ready to draw my weapons at the first sign of trouble. "You offer complacency, not peace," I reply coldly. _

_"It seems only war and death will satisfy you," the creature snarls. "So be it! Have your war and your darkspawn. May they be your doom!" I receive a nasty shock, as Duncan's likeness melts away and I am faced with with what I can only describe as a wispy, clawed Fade demon. It lunges at me without warning and I barely have time to draw my sword before it reaches me. With one swift stroke, I slice my blade through its middle and to my surprise, it shrieks its unearthly scream and dissipates. Surely it cannot be _that_ easy? I quickly draw my dagger and look around me, waiting for the other shoe to drop... But the ambush I expect never comes. _

_I sheathe my weapons once more, albeit a little warily, and take a moment to gauge my surroundings. Although the Fade demon had been easily banished, the illusion of Weisshaupt remained, with only one difference. Now a pedestal stood at the back of the dais where once there had been only air. I approach it with caution, both body and mind prepared for any impending attacks. _

_Etched into the top of the pedestal appears to be a strange pattern of stars: a triangle surrounding a pentagon, with a solitary black island in its center. At the height of the sequence is another star, this one glowing blue and pulsing, and seems to be unconnected to the rest of the pattern, save for a thin blue line leading to the uppermost island of the pentagon. The urge to touch it overcomes me, and so, without any real regard for what consequences may come, I brush the pinnacle of the pentagon with my forefinger, and instantly I can feel myself melt away._

_When I reform, my surroundings have changed dramatically. There is no sign of the grand Weisshaupt fortress, and I am now amidst a rocky, rather non-descript expanse of space that seems as though it could go on forever if I but had the desire to explore it. Immediately before me, however, are two things that catch my eye. The first is another pedestal, identical to the one I had only just examined. The second is a man standing beside it, who seems to be looking down at it without really seeing anything. Hesitantly I step forward, suspecting another Fade creature in disguise, but before I can determine what it is, the man spots me and jumps back in surprise. _

_"Who are you?" He asks loudly, with the same suspicion that I feel for him. "Where did you come from? Are you a demon?" He pauses, studying me intently. "No," he concludes finally. "I can see that you are not. You're like me. Congratulations on getting out of that trap." _

_I try to remind myself that complacency would be my downfall, but I relax slightly in spite of my own warnings. "What about my companions," I ask, looking around as if hoping to see some sign of them. "Are they trapped too?"_

_"You came here with others?" The man said, his voice echoing strangely into the still air. "Yes, they would be trapped. The demon traps everything that comes here in a dream it thinks they can't - or won't - try to leave. I thought I had escaped too, but I've been wandering these empty, grey spaces for a lifetime." He sighs. "My name is Niall, by the way. I was trying to save the Circle when I encountered the sloth demon. I expect our experiences were similar."_

_The name Niall stirs something in my mind and I realize that I have not been entirely successful in shaking off the demon's dream state. "Niall..." I repeat, trying to get a grip on myself. "Yes... Owain mentioned you!"_

_Niall bowed his head, "Owain helped me greatly. I suppose I'll never be able to repay him. The Litany was our weapon against the blood mages' domination. But its too late. Surely everyone is dead by now." He casts his eyes about the island wearily. "This place drains you of everything... hope, feeling, life..."_

_I can feel my heart sinking deeper the more I talk to this man. "But, there is... still hope, isn't there?" I reply, almost trying to convince myself as much as him. "We'll find a way out."_

_"No, there is no way out of here!" Niall snaps, before heaving a most despondent sigh. "You think there might be, but you'd be wrong." He indicates to the stone column next to him. "You see this pedestal? I've been studying the runes on it - runes that signify different islands of the sloth demon's domain. The sloth demon itself is on the center island, of that I am almost certain, but you can't get there. The five islands around the center somehow form a protective ward." He runs his hand through his wispy hair in frustration. "I thought I was getting somewhere when I figured that out, and I went to each of the islands in turn only to have my hopes dashed. There's always an obstacle. You'll see the path, but be unable to get to it, and it taunts you and drives you mad." _

_It requires a conscious effort to tune out the mage's depressing lamentations of unavoidable defeat. Instead, I engage my mind with the pedestal. The design is the same as the one I had only just left: a large middle star in the center of a pentagon, which in turn is surrounded by what I now recognize as a diamond, not a triangle. The island at the top of the diamond, which was once pulsing with blue energy, is now black and still like the others in it's pattern. Now the pinnacle of the pentagon is throbbing. This must be the way to travel, to _navigate_ the Fade. Yes, the pentagon must represent the protective ward of the inner sanctum. As for the diamond... _

_"Could my companions be on these islands here?" I ask Niall, tracing my finger over them each in turn. _

_"I... I don't know," Niall responds weakly. "There are so many dreamers. You might find a way to reach them through the islands, if you're lucky." _

_Once again, I ignore his dejected addendum. It has long since occurred to me that a keen mind will be required to escape this dream world. To lose hope would kill any chance I had afforded myself by throwing off the demon's flimsy vision of Duncan and Weisshaupt. The sloth demon was not all powerful. He had forced me to enter the _Fade_, where anything was possible if one but have the will to make it so. My finger paths over the diamond again, hardening my resolve._

_The first task before me is clear: the current island I occupy is one of the five that protect the inner sanctum and whatever safeguards that lay in place here must be destroyed. I turn my back on Niall, who seems to have lapsed into another fit of the sullens and pays me no mind. And with that, I set about exploring the little island. _

_It is not long when I come upon the first complication. A simple door is standing on its own in the middle of a clearing, with no obvious attachments or method of entry. Of course, that does not mean much. After all, this is the Fade. I decide that this door must be the key to the island's protection, but how to penetrate it... I waste several long moments puzzling out how I could feasibly force the door open and come up with no conclusion. I am forced to move on, hoping to find the solution elsewhere on the island. _

_A few times I am beset by Fade demons, each as easily dispatched as the one who claimed Duncan's likeness. However, as I progress further throughout the island, I can feel desperation begin to tug at my senses. I do my best to shake the feeling, but it is difficult: what if Niall is right and it is impossible to wend one's way through this intricate Fade maze? Lost in such troubling thoughts, I am given quite a fright when a small, squeaky voice suddenly calls out to me. _

_"You! You seek to kill Yevena... demoness rules here. Protects Sloth..." _

_I look around desperately for the source of the voice with no luck until I feel a small touch on my boot, which draws my gaze downward. To my surprise, before me lies a mouse with his paw on my toe and his nose turned up to me, almost imploringly. _

_"There's... door. Key in another... realm..." The creature seems to be on its last few breaths, its voice even weaker than before. "Take my power... save others trapped in nightmares. Kill demons that guard Sloth. Make my..." But whatever last request it had for me dies on its lips as it expires. Its body fades away slowly, and as it does so, I can feel its energy flow into me. Is this the power it had asked me to take? But... what power could a mouse have that I could use?_

_It takes a few moments, but finally the realization comes to me: I could somehow change my shape... become a mouse. Yes, the creature had been yet another poor soul trapped in Sloth's nightmare and had sought to free itself. Quickly, I look around for any signs that might point to an advantage I would have as a mouse, and soon I spot it. A tiny little hole in the ground, just big enough for a mouse to squeeze through. Now, for the change itself. _

_I close my eyes and concentrate, probing the strange new energy I feel in my mind. My body dissolves around me, and when I next open my eyes, the mouse hole at my feet is no longer a minuscule and unattainable tunnel, but a gateway. I dart through it with surprising ease, feeling my tail swish about my legs. After but a few moments I arrive back in open air once more, finding myself at the pedestal and Niall's feet. I had uncovered one of the secrets to navigating the islands... But the mouse creature had said that the key to unlocking the mysterious door was on yet another, and so to another I must go. _

_Niall nearly jumps out of his skin again when I change back to my human form right next to him, and I privately suppress a laugh. "You!" He gasps. "You were just a mouse! You were, weren't you? Did it help? I saw the holes! Were you small enough to get through?"_

_"Yes," I reply, moving to peer over the pedestal once more. "It was easy."_

_"You're so much braver than I am," Niall says shamefully. "I was so sure it was impossible to get anywhere. Do you think you could learn other shapes? Maybe they could help you get to places you couldn't otherwise..." _

_But I am not listening. Already the remaining four stars of the pentagon are lit up, allowing me access, as if it knows that I have obtained hidden power to help navigate them. The only question I have is which to attempt first? There is no way to discern the secrets of the labyrinth until I have explored them all, and so I close my eyes and plunk my finger down on a random island. Niall's voice fades away as I am transported to yet another realm. _

_Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that being a mouse would be so useful. The second island is blazing hot, filled with fire and even more Fade demons prowling about. However, my mouse disguise works perfectly and I am able to explore uninhibited through the use of the mouse holes. With every step it is though I am regaining what confidence I lost in speaking to Niall. In what feels like no time at all, I stumble upon another dreamer. Bolstered by my success I quickly shift back to my human form, but I am shocked when the dreamer immediately lunges at me, his sword drawn. _

_The combat is easily the most difficult I have experienced in the Fade. This is no creature born of the dream world, but one that had once been human, just as I was. The duel is grueling and requires every ounce of cunning I possess to finally force the dreamer to submit. _

_"Anger... fading," he growls. "Finally free..." He sheathes his weapon and claps a hand to my shoulder roughly. I try not to wince. "Take Rhagos's power. Use it and BURN him... burn them all. He guards Sloth, he bars the way. You must destroy the door. Other dreamers... other powers... only... way." The weight on my shoulder is lifted as the man's body shimmers and dissipates, leaving me with with the same sensation as before: one of secret power. But what had this dreamer bestowed to me? I search my mind... He said "burn him." Yes, that's it. The ability to manipulate fire. _

_As I come upon this conclusion, I notice a pedestal in the corner. This dreamer had said to search other realms as well... which could only mean that I did not yet have the key to finding the demon of this island yet. There is nothing for it. I cross the room to the pedestal and select yet a third star. The sensation of melting is becoming familiar, I note to myself and I am whisked to my newest destination. _

_This next island is even easier to traverse than the previous one, despite the increase in obstacles. Fire consumes much of the inner workings of this particular maze, but with my newest abilities, it is nothing at all to change from my mouse to flame body and continue on my way without coming to harm. Fade creatures continue to spawn around me, but are dispatched almost as soon as they come. It is not long when I meet with my third dreamer and he gifts me with the ability to change into a _stone golem _of all things. Furthermore I am able to question him a bit further and discover that using the combination of abilities I have now, I should be able to reach the demon that guards the island and forms one-fifth of the barrier that protects Sloth. _

_Encouraged by this unmistakable sign of progress, I rush to find this demon, and indeed as the dreamer said, the use of my three shapes allow me to travel and explore without incident until it seems I find the demon I have sought. With the use of my golem form, the battle is nothing to speak of and soon the demon falls at my feet. There is an ungodly shattering noise and I take this to mean that in killing the creature, I am also successful in destroying it's portion of the protective ward. My eyes find the pedestal beyond the demon's body, and I make haste to move on. _

_By the time I reach the fourth island I am not only emboldened by my exploits, but accustomed to the inner workings of the different Fade realms. I am able to to recognize the paths of least resistance and which forms I should use in case of a battle scenario. Wending my way through such a maze becomes nothing of consequence. Huge stone doors, fiery rooms, and dead end hallways are now but a thought to overcome. Niall never had any idea of what he was capable of, should he have acquired the abilities I was granted. In no time at all I discover a fourth dreamer who gives me a spirit body, one that is able to walk through impossible doors and I immediately remember the portal on the first island I visited. Indeed, even more interesting, as the dreamer's power flows into me, like the three before him, I have the most peculiar sensation of completeness. The dreamer is gone, so I cannot ask, but I do feel as though this is the last power I need to bring down the barrier. Victory, freedom, the lives of my companions are finally within my grasp. Now I simply need to find my way back through the islands and destroy the remaining demons._

_For all my new found skills, backtracking my way through the pentagon of stars requires every ounce of concentration I can manage. Tunnels begin to look the same and more than once I find myself where I had already been. It becomes a task of exploration, more than problem solving, I realize, as I struggle to penetrate the last of the islands' defenses and destroy the demons within. _Sloth certainly is no fool,_ I admit grudgingly to myself and for a moment I have to remind myself of the importance of maintaining hope. While discovering the dreamers and attaining their powers had been relatively easy, the second half of the task takes me much longer by comparison and by the time I am confident I have killed the five demons, my mind is exhausted. _

_But my hard work has paid off. The pedestals with the map of the islands now grant me access to the diamond pattern, as well as the center star, where Niall suspects Sloth to reside. First, however, I must rescue my companions. Not knowing which star belongs to who, I select one at random and whisk away to a dream..._

_I am now standing outside a rustic farm house. There are sounds of children playing about and two figures are standing near the front door just ahead of me. One I recognize as Alistair, the other... could have been a woman at some time, but my resistance to the Fade creatures has become strong enough to recognize her for what she is at once. Before I have time to react to this, however, Alistair turns to me, his eyes wide but blank and staring, as if not quite seeing what is before him. _

_"Hey Elissa! Its great to see you again," he gushes happily, his thick country drawl more pronounced than usual. "I was just thinking about you, isn't that a _marvelous_ coincidence?" He gestures wildly to the creature next to him. "This is my sister, Goldanna. These are her children -" more random hand waving, "- and there's more about somewhere. We're one big happy family, at long last!"_

_I feel a pang of sympathy for my dear friend. That Sloth would play with his desire for a real family... "Get away from them, Alistair," I say, trying to sound firm yet comforting at the same time. "This is a trick." _

_Alistair frowns and there is something of a brief flicker of life behind his deadened eyes. "What are you talking about?" He replies, sounding almost coherent. However, the creature at his side lays a hand on his shoulder, its sinister looking claws scraping across his pauldrons and the light in his expression dies out once more. _

_"Well, Alistair," the thing hisses, "is your friend staying for supper?" It turns its face to me and it suddenly strikes me how unwise it would be to kill it while it's grip on his mind is so strong. _

_"Say you'll stay!" Alistair exclaims with excitement, his tone dreamy once more. "Goldanna's a great cook. Maybe she'll make her mince pie!" He looks at the creature. "You can, can't you?"_

_"Of course, dear brother," it replies. "Anything for you." _

_I scowl at the thing and there is a shadow of a smirk on it's ugly features. "I can't stay and neither should you, Alistair." _

_It is apparent that my approach is not working, however, as Alistair only frowns at me. "You're acting really strangely." _

_The creature's hand tightens on his shoulder and I struggle to think of how to reach him. I close my eyes and take a breath, then reach up and cup his face in my hands, forcing him to look me in the eye. "Alistair, _think_ about this. Think about how you got here. Think very carefully." _

_He flinches when I touch him, but his frown softens. "Alright, if it will make you happy." His expression changes into one of concentration and slowly but surely, his eyes light up once more. "I... it's a little fuzzy. That's strange." _

_"Alistair, come and have some tea," the Fade creature says, squeezing his shoulder once more, but I hold fast, making sure his gaze remains locked with mine. _

_"No," he murmurs. "Wait, I remember... a tower. The Circle... it was under attack... There were demons. That's... all I really remember..."_

_"The sloth demon, " I reply, giving him a little shake. "Do you remember the sloth demon?"_

_"Yeah, you're right!" Alistair exclaims, sounding very much like his regular old self. Even his cheeks seem to have more of their color back. "Are you saying this is all a dream? It's so real..."_

_Before I can say anything, it seems as though the Fade creature has had enough. "That's because it is real!" It shouts, and like the thing with Duncan's face, it is no longer trying to sound even remotely convincing. "He is ours and I would rather see him dead than free." _

_Expecting the impending attack, I release Alistair's face and draw my dagger, bifurcating the thing without preamble. It shrieks as it dies and fades away into the air, leaving Alistair sputtering and staring. "G-Goldanna? I can't believe it. How did I not see this earlier?"_

_I sheathe my weapon with a satisfying clank. "You're in the Fade, it's not like the real world," I assure him. _

_Alistair coughs awkwardly, his customary sheepish grin in place. "Yes, well, try not to tell everyone how easily fooled I was, hm? Let's go." _

_Despite myself, I grin back. "Yes, let's. I'll show you how to work this thing." I indicate to the Fade pedestal from which I came, but seems to be a recent discovery to Alistair who stares at it like he's never seen anything quite like it before. "This may be a little uncomfortable at first," I warn him as I take his hand and select another dream island. Once again, my body melts into nothingness, this time with Alistair's added weight. _

_We arrive outside what I recognize as Flemeth's cabin. Morrigan is sitting near the door, reading a book, no Fade creatures in sight. As Alistair and I rematerialize (not without Alistair voicing his dislike of the sensation), the witch looks up. "Tis about time, did it not take you long enough?"_

_I raise my eyebrows, hardly surprised to have seen that Morrigan overcame whatever dream state Sloth summoned for her, but more annoyed that she chastised the speed of my rescue while she was doing nothing but idling in her dream world. "And what have _you_ been doing then?"_

_"Oh please, do not act as though I prefer to stay here," Morrigan scoffed. "I attempted to navigate the islands myself, but found barriers at every turn. When I did discover a clear pathway it became apparent to me that you had already been there. So I thought I should stay here and wait. I very much doubt one of us has the power to break this Fade world that sloth demon created for us. Better to work together on this task, no?"_

_I allow a moment of silence for her explanation to sink in. "You know," I say slowly, a new appreciation for Morrigan forming in my mind. "You're not as much of a bitch as I thought."_

_It is unclear whether Morrigan looks pleased or disappointed by this, but the three of us now make haste to the last island to retrieve Wynne. _

_Wynne's dream looks like the innards of Circle Tower. She is standing in one of the cold, stone rooms, surrounded by Fade creatures disguised as dead apprentices. "Why was I spared," she is saying as we approach her, "if not to help them? What use is my life now that I have failed the task that was given me?" _

_"They're not dead yet, the Circle can still be saved." I cut in quickly, hoping bring her back to her senses. "You're in the Fade, this is a dream."_

_But the mage looks at me as though she had not heard me speak. "And where were you when this happened? I trusted you as an ally and you were nowhere to be found." _

_"Isn't that proof enough that something isn't right?" I reply, lifting my eyebrows._

_Wynne blinks as if only just seeing us. "What sort of proof?" The Fade creatures stir at her feet, but she does not appear to notice. Behind my back, I signal for Morrigan and Alistair to close in, ready to attack in case the things make their move._

_"Think back," I say slowly, just as I had with Alistair. "Do you recall when I abandoned you to this?"_

_But unlike Alistair, Wynne nods firmly as if the memory were as clear as day. "We were entering the tower, and I remember that there was always all this death about me. There was no sign of you, none at all. It was just me, and all of this." Suddenly, she stops talking, her brow furrowing. "I... I don't remember any of them dying. I just... _know_ they're dead. Why wouldn't I remember them dying?"_

_I breathe an inward sigh of relief. For a moment I was worried that Sloth's dream state was too strong for her. "It is a trick, designed to keep you here in your misery." _

_"Something in your speech rings true," the mage says quietly, "but it feels as though my mind is... clouded over. Perhaps some time away from this place will help me think clearly." _

_It is that moment that the Fade creatures choose to make their attack, but before they can fully rise off the floor, Alistair and Morrigan put them back down again with some well timed blows. _

_Wynne clutches her chest at the sight, shocked. "Holy Maker, what sort of foul creatures are these?" _

_"Fade demons," I reply, grabbing the mage's elbow and steering her toward the pedestal. "Sloth forced us to enter the Fade, but it's time we get out of here." As we reach the stone altar, I am surprised to see that all the other islands have disappeared. Now the only choice is the center star - Sloth's domain. I look at my companions and have half a mind to ask if they are ready, however... it is clear that we were never ready for this. So, making sure I have a firm hold of everyone, I tap the center island and together we dissolve and travel..._

_For all the trouble I went through to reach the inner sanctum, I am far from impressed with it when we arrive. It is nothing but a raw, unshaped expanse of space, much like the first island I had discovered where Niall was waiting. Several yards ahead of us, stood what I assume is Sloth, but his form has changed from that of what we saw in the real world. It is still somewhat humanoid, but it is no longer misshapen and deformed; it now looks more like a skeleton draped in skin. We approach on tenterhooks, and as we draw nearer, it speaks to us in the voice it used to lull us to sleep. _

_"And what do we have here?" It says and I am pleased to hear a note of surprise in it's voice. "Rebellious minions? Escaped slaves perhaps?" It chuckles dryly, turning its deadened face to each of us in turn. "My, my, but you do have some gall. However, playtime is over. You all must go back now. If you return quietly I'll do better this time, I'll make you much happier."_

_Alistair scoffs, "I'll make my own happiness, thanks very much."_

_"You made a dangerous enemy, demon," Morrigan chimes in as well, "by toying with _my_ mind."_

"_Yes, and I would rather be rid of your evil here and now," says Wynne. _

"_Can't you think of anyone but yourselves? I'm so very, very hurt." Sloth drawls at us, but its power is not nearly as convincing as before. It seems that inside the Fade, his abilities are limited. It suddenly makes sense to me why the demons are so desperate to gain a foothold in the human realm. _

"_Give up, demon," I reply with a smirk, pleased to have reached this conclusion. "You cannot hold us here. We found each other, try as you might to separate us, and in this place you cannot stand against us." _

_The creatures howls in disdain. "You wish to battle _me_? So be it! You will learn to bow to your betters, mortals!" It's shape is changing as it shrieks at us, from the skeletal human thing, into the form of an ogre. We barely have time to draw weapons when it lowers its head, giving it that battering ram effect like the one Alistair and I battled in Ostagar. Thinking more quickly than I ever had before, I likewise change forms, into that of the stone golem one of the dreamers granted me. As the demon began to charge, it's terrible horns pointed squarely at Wynne, I lift a huge, rocky hand and slam it down atop it's skull. The thing roars, and turns it's sights on me now, and it is at that moment that I realize my companions have all stopped to stare at what must have been quite a shocking change in my shape. _

"_It's me," I bellow, my voice deep and hoarse. "Attack!" My lapse in concentration is ended with the demon's ogre head slamming into my stomach. If golems could breathe, I am certain the wind would be knocked out of me, but fortunately, I only stumble back in surprise, some of the stone making up my body chipping away from the impact. But finally, my companions have overcome their surprise, and have joined the fray. With my durable and powerful body at the head of the attack, it isn't long before I feel confident that the demon is done for. _

_The thought no sooner enters my mind than the thing changes again. Now it has become a different kind of demon, like some we saw in the tower. I want to scoff at such a change; the ogre would have proven much more difficult to eventually defeat, but then I realize that Sloth's new body is fresh, with no wounds or any other signs of the battle. Now a much more horrifying idea occurs to me: how many shapes does the demon have? Together, we have the strength to beat down several, but how many before we fall? I am the only one with the capability to change my form, but not all are equipped for battle, and I would not last long alone. _

_The demon's current body does not last long, nor does it's third, which is also another type of abomination that we saw in the lower floors of Circle Tower. The fourth shape is a terrible, rotting mess, which Alistair informs us is a shriek - a type of darkspawn created from the bodies of elves. But it too is easily dispatched and Sloth adopts yet a fifth form. This thing is more reminiscent of the creatures I fought on my way through the Fade maze. Physically frail, but with powerful magic spells in their arsenal. Immediately after adopting this shape, it uses this magic to throw a huge ball of flame at us which my slow golem body is unable to avoid. I, too, adopt another of my bodies, that of the burning man, and the pain from the flames dies away at once. _

"_Elissa, is that you?" Alistair shouts, picking himself off the ground after having dived to dodge the fire. _

"_Yes, ask me about it later," is my response. I draw my weapons and dive after Sloth once more who hisses at me as I come closer. It attempts to cast once more, but a draw both blades in a sweep across it's body, and my sword passes clean through it's bony wrist. The putrid hand falls to the ground and the creature lets out a horrible, blood-curdling scream. It begins to pound on my chest with its remaining fist, clearly desperate, and I know that this is it's last life. It's last body. I run it through with my dagger, just as Morrigan casts a well aimed frost spell and freezes the demon into solid ice. Alistair charges in, ramming it with his shield and it's body shatters into a thousand tiny fragments before melting away into nothingness. An eerie calm falls over the plain. _

_My body starts to tingle and I am forced from my fiery shape, back into that of my natural human form. The Fade realm around us is beginning to dissolve and as I turn to congratulate my companions, I realize I am alone in the dream world now, save for Niall's hazy figure before me. _

"_You did it," he says, his voice faint and fading with each word. "You defeated the demon. I never... expected you to free yourself. I wish I could go with you, but I cannot. I have been here far too long. Every minute I was here, the Sloth demon was feeding off me, using my life to fuel the nightmares of this realm." He takes a step forward as the world around me is darkening. I am waking up from the dream. "Take the Litany of Adralla from my body, it will protect you from the worst of the blood magic. The Circle is all that matters now. Goodbye... my friend." _

_The world goes black._


	8. The Plight of Mages

There was a familiar sort of wetness on Elissa's face when she finally roused from the Fade nightmare. She opened her eyes and discovered that this was because Argent was standing over her, drooling on her head. She sat up quickly, pushing the animal aside with a the kind of fondness that only a master can bestow.

Around her, her other companions were rising off the floor as well, trying to shake off the dream state that still lingered at the back of their minds. She cast her eyes about the floor and it was hard to miss the body of a mage lying near the now unrecognizable corpse of the sloth demon.

Wynne followed her gaze and knelt beside the unfortunate man. "It is Niall. He was right to take the Litany of Adralla for protection against the blood mages, but it is useless against a demon of this kind." She allowed herself a respectful moment of silence, and then began rummaging through his robes, searching for the Litany. After a few moments she rose to her feet, clutching a scroll.

Elissa nodded to it. "Can I trust you with that, Wynne? I would have no idea how to use it or when it would be appropriate."

The mage smiled. "You can count on me. Now we must move quickly. We lost precious time inside the Fade."

The fifth floor was mostly empty, save for a few abominations that were prowling about aimlessly, and they were just as easy to kill as the ones that came before them. The group moved quickly through the rooms and halls until they reached the next staircase up, beside which was a curious sight. It was a templar kneeling in prayer and haloed in a warm, white light. As they approached him, his face turned to a scowl. "This trick again?" He spat. "I know what you are. It won't work. I will stay strong."

"What's going on?" Elissa asked, frowning. "What are you still doing here?"

But the man paid no attention to her words. "Enough visions! If anything in you is human kill me now and stop this game! You broke the others... but I will stay strong. For their sake... and for mine. FILTHY BLOOD MAGES!" He shouted suddenly, causing the companions to jump. "I WILL NOT BREAK. I'd... rather die."

"The poor boy is exhausted," Wynne muttered. "He has been subjected to, and resisted, no doubt all manner of mind games and torture. Rest easy," she added louder, to him. "Help is here."

"Silence," the templar growled, still convinced that they were just another vision. "I'll not listen to anything you say. Now BEGONE!" He closed his eyes and bowed his head once more in prayer. After a moment or two he looked up again, shocked to see that they still stood before him. "Still... here? But that has always worked before. I close my eyes , but you are still here when I open them..."

Elissa laid a hand on his shoulder, hoping to reassure him, but he only looked more ready to jump out of his skin. "I am no trick of the mind, friend. I am a Grey Warden and I am trying to save the tower."

"Good. Kill Uldred! Kill them all for what they've done." It was then that his voice broke and he buried his face in his hands, a horrible memory resurfacing. "They caged us like animals... looked for ways to break us. I'm the only one left... They turned some into... monsters. And there was nothing I could do."

"Uldred will pay for what he has done," Elissa said firmly, feeling her anger build.

"To think I once felt pity for the Circle," the templar was saying to himself. "Now I'd like nothing more than to wipe their taint off the face of Thedas."

Elissa frowned, casting a sideways glance at her two magically inclined companions. Wynne appeared neutral; Morrigan looked livid. She thought it best to move on sooner rather than later. "I've heard talk of other survivors."

The templar looked up finally. "What others? What are you talking about."

"Irving and the other mages that fought with Uldred," Wynne said, stepping forward. "Where are they?"

"They are in the Harrowing chamber," replied the man, his voice growing weak once more. "The sounds coming from there... Oh, maker!"

Wynne gripped Elissa's arm. "We must hurry! They are in grave danger, I am sure of it."

"You can't save them all," the templar cut in darkly. "You don't know what they've become. They've been surrounded by blood mages, whose wicked fingers snake into your mind and corrupt your thoughts. " He suddenly lurched forward and caught Elissa's wrist. Behind her, she could hear Alistair's weapon being drawn and in spite of the situation, she felt herself blush. She brought her attention back to the man, who said in a hushed and urgent whisper, "You have to end it now, before it's too late."

"I will not kill an innocent," Elissa replied firmly, pulling her arm from his grasp.

The man's expression changed from desperation to anger. "Are you really saving anyone by taking this risk? To ensure this horror is ended, to guarantee that no abominations or blood mages live, you must kill everyone up there. I beg you consider what I have to say. You cannot tell a maleficarum by sight. Just one could influence the mind of a king, of a grand cleric."

Elissa turned away from the man, heading for the stairs. "I do not fear maleficarum," she replied, her voice hard and cold. "They should fear me."

ELISSA'S JUSTICE

It is not well known what Elissa chose to do to those few blood mages she encountered that preferred to beg for their lives than die on her blades. Perhaps, she made an effort to keep it quiet, secretly ashamed. No one can say for sure. It is certainly true that she did not like to kill needlessly. For all her training in combat as a lass and all her experience with war as an adult, she never quite agreed with taking the life of someone who was on their knees begging to keep it. Nor, did she, by her own admission, feel comfortable letting known maleficarum go free with nothing more than a stern warning. She did believe in reformation for those who truly wished to seek it her choice in many of her companions highlights this. However, she simply did not trust blood mages.

Her morales and sense of justice put her in a difficult position, one she later stated that she never felt she completely got out of. And so she chose to do something even she considered horrific, inhumane, and yet... ultimately better than death. According to her memoirs, she never felt the same after she inflicted this punishment on the first blood mage that asked for her mercy. She found herself hoping that any future maleficarum her company encountered would choose to take their fight to death, and so she may be spared from doing such a terrible thing again.

Was it worth it then? She never did say, to her companions or in her writings. Applaud or abhor her actions, they are done and in the past now. May we all pray we never find ourselves in her position, forced to make such a difficult choice.

Elissa's heart was pounding as she climbed the stairs to the Harrowing chamber, her companions in step behind her. She knew Alistair was standing just behind her and she longed to take his hand to reassure herself. But there was no time to dally as they reached the heavy stone door; there had been precious little time at the beginning of their journey through the tower and they had lost much of it battling to this moment. She drew a deep, calming breath, and leaned her weight on the door.

The sight they were met with inside the chamber was more gruesome than words could describe. Littered about the room where mangled mage parts; in one corner stood a group of survivors, waiting their turn to be experimented on; in another was a smaller collection of abominations and blood mages; and in the center of the chamber was one man, Elissa assumed Uldred, holding up a young mage by his hair and pressing a knife to his throat. He looked up when the companions burst in and rather than immediately ordering his minions to attack, he folded his arms over his chest and said, "Ah, look who we have here. An intruder." He offered an over dramatic bow. "I bid you welcome. Care to join our... revels?"

The smirk on his face was enough to get Elissa's blood boiling, but she dare not foolishly attack and risk the hostages. Instead she forced her face into a mask of deadly calm. "I take it you're Uldred?" She said flatly.

"Oh, very observant," the blood mage replied, rolling his eyes. "I AM quite impressed you're still alive. Unfortunately that must mean you killed my servants."

It was Elissa's turn to smirk. "Oh, I'm sorry. Are you upset I killed your lackeys?"

Uldred narrowed his eyes. "We needn't fixate on who killed whom. That doesn't help our relationship. Besides, they are probably better off dying in the service of their betters than living with the terrible responsibility of independence."

"What are you trying to accomplish by torturing these people?" Alistair asked suddenly, his voice poisonous. Uldred shifted his eyes boredly to him, clearly unimpressed.

"A mage is but the larval form of something greater," he said with the air of explaining something obvious to a child. "Your chantry vilifies us, calls us abominations, when we have truly reached our full potential!" He gestured then to the bloody mage remains scattered on the floor. "Look at them. The Chantry had them convinced. They denied themselves the pleasure of becoming something glorious."

"You're mad!" Wynne exclaimed in horror."There is nothing glorious about what you have become, Uldred."

"Uldred?" He cackled and a chill rolled down Elissa's spine. "He is gone. I am Uldred and yet not Uldred. I am more than he was. I could give you this gift, Wynne. You and all mages. It would be so much easier if you just accepted it. But some people could be so stubborn."

Elissa moved so that she could step between him and Wynne, though she had to admit to herself she doubted she would prove much protection in the case of a blitz attack. "I'm glad so many of them stood up to you," she snarled.

"And what good did that do?" Uldred replied with a shrug. "I still won. I even have the first enchanter on my side. Don't I... Irving?" He looked to his left at the group of survivors and for the first time Elissa noticed an elderly mage tied to a stake at the front of them.

"Irving!" Wynne gasped. "What have you done to him?"

Before Uldred could speak again, the mage spoke up in a hoarse and broken voice, "Stop him... he is... building an army. He will destroy the templars and -"

"You sly little fox, Irving," Uldred interrupted, giving the first an enchanter a scathing look. "Telling on me like that. And here I thought you were starting to turn."

"N-never," the old man choked out.

"That's enough out of you, Irving." Uldred turned back to Elissa and the others. "He'll serve me eventually. As will you..."

"I'd rather die," Elissa spat. She could sense the fight coming now. Her body tensed almost painfully as she waited for the first sign to draw her weapons.

Uldred clicked his tongue. "Now, now, none of that. Killing you would be a waste. Your raw potential, with the strength of a demon behind it, would be unstoppable. I can do that - I can give you power, and a new life."

"That doesn't sound very appealing to me."

"Well, I don't think your opinion matters anymore," he said in a bored tone. "That is what I have decided, and that is what will be done. Fight if you must. It will just make my victory all the sweeter." He laughed then, baring his teeth, which were now long and fang like, and Elissa marveled how they all fit in his mouth. She then realized it was because his body was rapidly shifting from his human form into that of a hideous super-abomination. The time had come. In a blink she had her weapons out.

It was not a moment too soon, for she turned just in time to see another of the abominations come lumbering towards her. She ducked around its hulking arms, thrusting her dagger into it's back, but it simply morphed it's form so that it was facing her once more. It clubbed her in the side of the head with it's fist and for a moment she was knocked silly. She looked about for help in destroying the thing, but she soon realized that the others were already engaged otherwise. Alistair was keeping Uldred's attention, Morrigan was casting fervently at yet a third abomination, and Wynne was doing all she could to make sure the other three had what healing they needed to stay alive while at the same time using the Litany of Adralla to thwart Uldred's attempts to dominate the remaining mages. She had Argent at her side, who was trying his best to attack, but was clearly flustered by the odd thing. To make matters worse, these abominations were not the pushovers they had encountered on their way up the tower. The one she was combating now seemed empowered somehow; perhaps due to Uldred's close proximity and participation in the battle.

The thing swung it's lumbering arms at her once more. One she was able to dodge, but the other caught her in the side; it dug it's claws in deep, puncturing her leathers with ease. She felt a terrible burning sensation in her ribs as the thing pierced her flesh. She was losing control of the fight; it was now using it's grip on her to leverage her into a more vulnerable position and, with it's free hand, raked her down the front from head to navel. She cried out in pain as the side of her face was flayed open.

"Elissa!" Alistair cried. He turned, abandoning Uldred, and foolishly charged toward her abomination. His recklessness seemed to have paid off, however. The thing was either too stunned or did not have time to react to his sudden attack, and the templar rammed it hard with his shield. For a moment there was searing pain in Elissa's flank, as the abomination's claws were torn from her at an odd angle, but then she could hear Wynne's voice chanting. A halo of blue light fell around her and the burning agony melted away. She touched the wound and found that there was none.

There was no time to marvel at Wynne's incredible powers of healing, however. Her abomination had been temporarily stunned from Alistair's charge, but it was recovering itself with surprising quickness, and now they also had Uldred to contend with. No longer distracted nor impeded by Alistair, the thing that had once been the mage was casting a spell and there was not time to try to interrupt him before the whole room went up in flames. Elissa did not know how she would survive the heat, when she felt Alistair's arm wrap around her and pull her tight against his body. She could hardly wonder how he thought now was an appropriate time, but his motives were soon made clear as he chanted something under his breath and the area immediately surrounding them cleared of the flames.

His templar anti-magic bought them the time they needed. While it seemed that the abominations were immune to the fire, they could not see through it. Almost in sync, the two stabbed it with their respective swords and it died just as the flames too were burning out. On the other side of the room, Morrigan had managed to use the fire spell to fuel her own magic and had finished off her abomination rather handily. Now all that remained was Uldred.

The companions converged upon him with surprising harmony. Alistair attempted to charge the giant abomination as he had the smaller one, but with less success. Uldred met the shield with his fist, crumpling the metal slightly. However, distracted as he was in doing so, Elissa was able to tumble around him to his backside, digging her dagger into his deformed back. Morrigan cast some sort of spell to disorient him, making him vulnerable to further attacks, and Argent bounded around with ease nipping at any weak spots.

Uldred, however, was not, by any means, a pushover. As soon as he regained a sense of himself, recovering from Morrigan's spell, he swept his massive arm in an arc in front of him, knocking Alistair to the ground. Before anyone could react to this, he had turned around in a flash, grabbing up Elissa like the ogre had done to Alistair back in Ostagar, only he did not try to crush her in his hand. Instead he flung her across the room, where she crashed into Wynne, and they clattered to the ground together. Elissa's skull bounced painfully off the stone floor and the world went dark...

She came to what must have been only moments later. The back of her head and neck were covered in sticky blood, but she was not in any pain, and so she struggled to her feet to re-enter the battle. She was displeased to see that Uldred still had plenty of fight left in him, though the others certainly had proven they could stand against him. He had scores of burn marks seared across his distorted flesh, his legs were mangled and bloody from Argent's bite, and it seemed as though Alistair had been able to land more than one sword thrust to the gut. Elissa stood back for a moment, regaining her wits, and looking for a vulnerable spot to strike when suddenly she got an idea. She loosed her secondary knife from it's sheath at her belt and arched her arm back, ready to fling it when the opportunity arose. Presently, the abomination was thrashing about, trying to pummel Alistair who was not so daintily dancing about to avoid the blows. One fist managed to come crashing down on target, but with reflexes faster than she realized the warden had, Alistair pulled his shield up in time to protect himself from most of the damage. However, he still fell to the ground, pinned under the monstrous fist.

Now was the time. Uldred's face was turned at a downward angle, as he concentrated on attacking Alistair. He was not paying attention to Argent gnawing at his heels, nor Morrigan frantically casting what few spells she could with her remaining mana, nor Elissa's hand poised for the striking. She took careful aim, all too aware that what she was about to attempt had never been one of her strong suits, and flung the knife at his head. Just before the handle left her fingertips, Wynne lifted her voice to cast a spell, and the magic carried the dagger so that it's aim was true. It landed dead on target: in Uldred's beady left eye.

A horrible roar filled the chamber, echoing off the stone walls, as the abomination thrashed its huge head about, blood pouring from it's damaged eye. Alistair was free from it's grasp, and was all too happy to land the finishing blow. He thrust his sword upwards just as Uldred's head swung about in his direction, and impaled his jaw on the blade. The warden gave it one more good push, and the sword imbedded even deeper in the thing's brain cavity. The abomination that was once Uldred shuddered as it died, falling to the floor with a terrific crash.

Elissa could feel the air go out of her as crushing relief overcame her. She dropped her weapons, her whole body throbbing with the dull ache that remained from the combat, and after a moment Alistair was at her side, pulling her into a tender embrace. "Oh, thank the Maker you are alright," he whispered in her ear. "My heart almost stopped when you hit the floor." He released her and looked her over. "How are you feeling?"

"My head hurts," she admitted truthfully and before she could stop him, he had turned her around to assess the wound on her skull.

"This doesn't look good," he muttered, pulling off one of his gauntlets and running a finger through her blood soaked hair. "I don't think Wynne fully repaired it. Maybe she can now that the fight is over. WYNNE!"

Wynne, who had rushed to check on Irving and the other mages, excused herself and came to join the Wardens. She too inspected the fracture and like Alistair had predicted, the prognosis was not ideal. "I am sorry Elissa," she said softly. "This wound is beyond my capability to heal alone. You need non-magical first aid to augment my magic. The best I can do for now is numb the pain, stop the bleeding, and guard the wound from infection."

"That's it?" Alistair asked, frowning. "Why can't you take care of this now? We have plenty of injury kits - "

"Elissa is not in immediate danger right now, Alistair," Wynne interrupted, matching his frown with a more foreboding one of her own. "My priority now is making sure the first enchanter is alive and well, so that we may ALL get out of here alive. Or did you forget Greagoir's ultimatum?" She gave Alistair a cold look, cast a spell to protect the fracture, and returned to the mages.

"Don't worry," Elissa assured her friend, who was looking both angry and anxious. "It doesn't hurt, and she's right. We need to get out of here, then we can take care of the details."

Other than Elissa's injury, the others seemed to be in relatively good condition. Alistair was a little bruised up, and Argent's mouth was full of blood, though Elissa suspected it was all Uldred's, but other than that the companions had come through with flying colors. The mages, however, were another story. Only a handful remained and they were all pale, weak, and shaking, huddled in their corner like frightened mice, even long after Uldred had fallen. At the forefront of these poor souls was Irving, tied to his wooden stake, no doubt propped up there so that he could witness all the sinister experimentations Uldred was performing on his comrades.

Presently, Wynne was fumbling with the rope that had him tied into place, and Elissa came to help her, pulling her knife from Uldred's oozing eye socket, and cutting through the bindings with ease. Irving stumbled away from the stake and Alistair caught him by the chest before he could fall. "Maker," he wheezed. "I'm too old for this."

"Are you alright, Irving?" Wynne asked in her quiet, solemn tones.

"I've... been better," the old mage grunted. "But I am thankful to be alive. I suppose this was your doing, Wynne?"

"I was not alone," she said, indicating to Elissa and Alistair Elissa could not help but notice that Morrigan was conveniently forgotten, though the witch herself did not seem to mind. "I had help."

Irving looked the Wardens up and down. "The Circle owes both of you a debt of gratitude we will never be able to repay."

"Actually," Elissa said quickly, with a sideways glance at Alistair. "There is a way you could..." But she stopped as Irving held up a withered old hand.

"We can discuss it soon enough. But we must let the templars know that the tower is once again ours." He looked up at Alistair who was still holding him up. "I shall need you to guide me down the stairs. Oh, curse whoever insisted that the Circle be housed in a tower..."

The journey back to the ground floor was uneventful. The companions had been very thorough in cleaning out the demons, abominations, and blood mages. All that was left was to collect the paltry few survivors they had encountered on their way up. When the group at last reached the stone door, they stood at only twenty-five men, including the children and the companions. It did not look good for recruiting the mages to the war against the darkspawn, but Elissa resolved herself to convincing Irving otherwise.

Greagoir was surprised, to say the least, when at last the doors were finally opened. Alistair, supporting Irving, was at the head of the group. "Irving," the knight-commander gasped. "Maker's breath, I did not expect to see you alive." He signaled some of the hovering templars, and a few rickety old chairs and a stool were produced from a side closet.

Irving collapsed into one of these, clutching his chest. "It... is over, Greagoir," he said wearily, closing his eyes. "Uldred is dead."

"Uldred tortured these mages, hoping to break their wills and turn them into abominations." Cullen - the templar whom the companions had met outside the Harrowing chamber - cut in abruptly. "We don't know how many of them have turned."

"What? Don't be ridiculous!" Irving replied, shocked.

"Of course he'll say that!" Cullen threw a filthy look at the first enchanter, along with the rest of the mages who had come down from the Harrowing chamber. "He might be a blood mage! You don't know what they did! I won't let this happen again!"

"I am the knight-commander here, not you," Greagoir said quietly. "Warden," he added to Elissa, keeping his reprimanding stare on the younger templar. "What say of you this matter? Is the tower safe? Was Uldred successful in turning these mages?"

"I believe order has been restored to the Circle sir," Elissa replied and for the first time Greagoir turned to look at her. He jumped at her appearance, no doubt shocked by the copious amount of matted blood in her hair and smeared on her armor.

"Good gracious!" He exclaimed. "Someone get this good woman some medical attention."

Wynne stepped forward then and grasped Elissa's elbow, steering her towards the stool that she had positioned near the best light in the small foyer. "I am sorry for the delay," she murmured softly. "You understand, I hope?"

"Of course," Elissa said. "Don't let Alistair fool you, he's actually quite nice when our lives aren't at stake."

The old mage smiled. "So noted. This might sting a bit." She went silent as she got to work cleaning up the wound. It was all Elissa could do to keep her mind off the pain, and so she turned her attention back to the conversation between Irving, Greagoir, and a very put-out Cullen.

"But they may have demons within them!" The latter was saying with the desperation of a losing battle. "Lying dormant... lying in wait!"

"Enough," Greagoir said, holding up his hands to stem the flow of protests. "I have already made my decision." He turned his back on the young templar and offered an weary smile at Elissa. "Thank you. You have proven yourself a friend of both the Circle and the templars."

"And what about the darkspawn," Elissa replied, eager to turn the discussion back to the matter that drove her here in the first place. "The Blight drove me here to seek aid."

Greagoir sighed. "I did promise you aid, but with the Circle restored my duty is to watch the mages. They are free to help you."

Elissa turned her eyes expectantly to Irving, who had finally managed to stand of his own volition. "Here we are," he said in his slow voice. "The tower in disarray, the Circle nearly annihilated... though it could have been much, much worse. I am glad you arrived when you did. It is almost as though the Maker Himself sent you." He smiled, though it seemed more like a grimace than a smile. "The least we can do is help you against the darkspawn. I would hate to survive this only to be overcome by the Blight"

"So..." Elissa replied, ready to close the deal. "I have your word?"

The old mage bowed slightly, holding one hand to his heart. "You have my word, as first enchanter. The Circle will join the Grey Wardens in the fight."

It felt as though a terrible weight lifted off of Elissa's shoulders just then. Even the pain in her head laceration seemed to melt away she did not notice that Wynne had finished patching her up, and had healed the wound with her magic. She looked over at Alistair who beamed back, flashing the thumb's up.

"I am afraid I cannot offer you any hospitality," Greagoir said. "I have to oversee a sweep of the tower. There may be more survivors and we should do our best to -"

"Wait," Elissa suddenly cut in, frowning and looking about the small ante-chamber. "Where is Sten and Leliana."

Greagoir stared at her for a moment, evidently confused. Finally he lifted his eyebrows, "Ah, of course, I forgot. Your friends waited a few hours but finally chose to sail back across the lake to stay at the inn. As I understand it, the sister felt the tension here inside the tower was too stressful and preferred to wait out your return in a more comfortable environment."

"A few hours?" The junior warden repeated, dazed. "How long were we in there?"

"Why, it is nearly daybreak." He pointed at one of the windows and sure enough the sky was just beginning to get light. Elissa turned to comment to her companions about how much time had passed, but Wynne had stepped forward first, speaking to the first enchanter.

"Irving, I have a request." The old mage looked at the wardens, smiling. "I seek leave to follow Elissa and her companions."

Elissa blinked. She spared a glance at Alistair, who nodded approvingly, and Morrigan who looked scathing. She almost chuckles to herself. She very much doubted Morrigan would approve of any future companions they one day might hope to acquire. She put the witch from her mind, remembering how useful Wynne's healing magic had been in the tower. "We would be honored to have you join us, Wynne."

Irving, however was frowning. "Wynne... we need you here. The Circle needs you in this trying time."

The old woman laughed at this however. "I appreciate the sentiment, Irving, but the Circle will do fine without me. The Circle has you. This woman - " she gestured back at Elissa who blinked in surprise, "is brave and good, and capable of great things. I wish to help her accomplish her goals."

The first enchanter sighed, but he was smiling. "You were never one to stay in the tower when there was adventure to be had elsewhere."

"Why stay here when I can be of service elsewhere?" Wynne replied innocently.

"Very well, then I give you leave to follow the Grey Wardens, but know that you always have a place here." The old mage sighed, looking at the stone walls without fondness. "There is much to be done here to prepare ourselves for the Blight. I bid you farewell for now. You must forgive me for not being a proper host."

Elissa held up her hands. "I understand. I think a good night's - well, morning's - rest is in order for all of us. Till we meet again."

The companions were all too happy to take their leave. The sun was rising rapidly as Ser Carroll rowed them back to the mainland grumbling the whole way, which marked a full day since Elissa, Alistair, or Morrigan had slept, not counting the nap Sloth had forced on them, which was hardly restful. When they broke shore, Carroll pointed them toward the inn, and they all trudged inside silently.

The interior of the inn was modestly decorated, with a few meager tables in a tiny dining area and a bar which was empty. At one of the tables sat Leliana, who was slumped over, asleep. Sten was leaning against the wall behind her, his head bowed, apparently deep in thought, though upon closer inspection, they realized he too was asleep. Alistair wanted to leave them there and go sneak off to bed, but Elissa wouldn't allow it.

Leliana flared up immediately, hugging both Elissa and Alistair, thankful for their safe return Morrigan got a smile and nothing more, and took to Wynne immediately. Sten was less animated. He simply stared at the state of them and pointedly told Elissa to go to bed.

She did not need telling twice. She barely could keep her eyes open while they waited for the innkeeper and when she finally stumbled into her room, she fell onto her bed without changing out of her blood-soaked leathers and was immediately asleep.


	9. The Sword and the Secret

It was already dusk by the time Elissa awoke and even then she did not cherish the idea of rolling out of bed. It had only been a fortnight since she had her own bed at Castle Cousland (was that really all?) and yet it felt as though it had been ages since she had slept on a mattress. She rolled over, relishing the feeling of actual sheets against her skin. The sunset was shining a lovely crimson color about the walls of her tiny chamber and in the common room below she could hear loud conversation and light music.

She tried in vain for several long minutes to go back to sleep, reminding herself that it could be a while before she might get another opportunity like this. However, the siren call of the festivities downstairs proved too much for her to resist and finally she swung her legs out of bed. Sometime in the middle of the day, she had awoken, feeling rather uncomfortable sleeping in her leathers, and so she had changed into her bedclothes. She looked at the crumpled form of the leather armor in a pile next to the bed and frowned. Normally she preferred to be armored everywhere she went, however it did not seem appropriate to go to something of a party geared to the teeth. But she did not have many clothes available to her; only a few dirty old pants and some loose tunics that had once belonged to her brother.

It was these she clothed herself in, shuddering to think how she would look amongst her companions dressed in such a way. One person in particular came to mind, and her face burned at the thought. Nevertheless, she left her pride behind her as she marched pointedly downstairs to join the others. The small bar was full to the bursting now. A number of templars who must have just come off duty from their sweep of the mage tower, eager to relax and celebrate Uldred's defeat had their own corner and cheered at her when she came down the steps. There was also a group of common folk, who appeared to frequent the tavern, with stools at the bar; and next to the fire was her ragtag band of companions.

Leliana was the one playing the music. She was sitting on the hearth, with a lute across her lap, strumming it lightly and singing a song about a human woman who had been raised by a clan of elves. Morrigan and Sten each were avoiding conversation with the others; Morrigan was reading a book and occasionally taking a large gulp from the pewter stein sitting before her; Sten was sitting apart from everyone, glowering at the commoners with disdain. Wynne and Alistair were chatting enthusiastically, Alistair more than the mage. Elissa noticed, with a private chuckle, three empty steins before him, and a fourth half-drained in his hand. As she approached the table, he broke away from the conversation and turned his abnormally rosy face toward her, "Elissa!" He slurred joyously. "Finally you're up lazy bones! Come have a drink! The templars are paying!" He turned away, pointing at the barmaid tending to some other patrons and shouted rather belligerently, "Oi, another round for us, please."

The barmaid peered over her shoulder at Alistair, sighing, and Elissa clapped a hand to her face, taking her seat next to her besotted friend. After a moment, their drinks arrived and Elissa downed her first glass with enthusiasm. The mood amongst the companions was light. It had been a relief to come through their experience in the tower with no casualties and few injuries; furthermore, their gamble had paid off and now one of the treaties had been enforced. Elissa and Alistair no longer stood alone against the blight. The templars made good on their promise to keep the companions' drinks filled, and so it did not take long for Elissa to reach a state of drunkenness to match Alistair's, who by now was giggling to himself quietly. It was the first time all night they had been relatively left alone together. Wynne and Leliana were cheerfully leading the peasants and templars in a round of a very popular folk drinking song, Morrigan had retreated to the darkest and quietest corner of the bar where she could still get the barmaid's attention, and Sten had disappeared somewhere.

"Hey, I've got a question," Elissa said suddenly, leaning across the table so Alistair could hear her over the din.

The templar's eyes widened and he scooted closer, still giggling like a little girl. "Mmhmm," he replied with the air of someone about to discuss some great state secret.

"If you were raised in the Chantry, have you never...?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at him.

However, Alistair was either very good at playing hard to get, or he honestly didn't understand what she had meant to ask him, because he only tilted his head to the side and said, "Never...? Never what? Never had a good pair of shoes?" He smirked then, and Elissa knew he was just being coy and avoiding the question.

"You know what I mean," she replied, leaning back in her chair and taking another long gulp from her stein.

"I'm not sure I do. Have I never seen a basilisk? Ate jellied ham?" He paused here to giggle. "Have I never licked a lamppost in winter?"

Elissa rolled her eyes. "See, now you're just making fun of me."

"Make fun of you, dear lady, perish the thought!" He tapped her nose playfully and Elissa belatedly realized a moment later how intimate the gesture had been. She didn't have time to ponder it, however, for his smirk was back in place. "Well, tell me: have you ever _licked a lamppost in winter_?"

It occurred to Elissa how tricky answering this question would be. If she responded to the query he had _asked_, she would say yes, she had. She could tell him about the time her childhood friend, Eriale, had challenged her to a match of bravery. They had each given each other a series of grueling tasks, ending in who could stand with their tongue frozen to a post the longest. He may get a good laugh about it and the conversation would most likely end, leaving Elissa without _his_ answer to _her_ question, one she honestly wanted to know. Alternatively, she could address the double entendre, in which case the answer would be no. She had never let any man get close enough emotionally to her, and she had no interest in laying with someone she didn't otherwise respect or care about. However, with Alistair, there was no way to know which meaning he expected her to respond to. She could ruin a fun joke by answering the wrong way. It struck her how political and frustrating flirting could be. Finally, she arranged her expression into one of even indifference and said, "No, I've never licked a lamppost in winter."

"Good, I hear its quite painful!" Alistair exclaimed and Elissa sighed inwardly at having botched the conversation. "I remember one of the younger initiates did it on a dare, once, and there was pointing and laughing. Oh, the humanity!" He chuckled heartily and drained the remainder of his seventh drink. A long silence passed between them and Elissa was just trying to come up with a way to break the awkward moment, when he spoke again, sounding surprisingly more sober than he had just a minute before. "I, myself, have also never done... _it. That._" He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Not that I never thought about it, of course, but... you know..."

"You've never had the opportunity?" Elissa supplied.

He shrugged, picking at some of the wood on the table. "Well, living in the Chantry... is not exactly a life for rambunctious boys. They taught me to be a gentlemen, especially in the presence of beautiful women, such as yourself." He looked up, his expression sheepish. "That's not so bad, is it?"

Elissa felt her face flush and she turned away to hide it. "You think I'm beautiful?"

"Of course you are!" Alistair exclaimed. "You're ravishing, resourceful, and all those other things you'd probably hurt me for not saying."

She still couldn't bring herself to look in his direction, but her hand found his hesitantly and gave it a squeeze. "I would never hurt you," she whispered softly and more seriously than the situation called for. There was a long silence and then Alistair's fingers entwined with hers, and his other hand touched her chin, forcing her to look at him.

"Nor I, you," he replied, just as quietly and for a moment Elissa's heart stopped. It was like everything around them had melted into the background and all that was left was this moment in time. His hazel eyes were locked on to her green ones, both speaking volumes that neither would dare say aloud. The warmth of his hand laced with hers was burning throughout her whole body. And she felt violently sick to her stomach, like she was about to leap across a canyon with no way of knowing whether or not she would come out alive.

Then it was over. The din of the festivities came back in full and Alistair's goofy grin was back in place. "Now," he was saying. "Let us get back to the party, lest your risque talk make my ears blush."

Elissa was all too happy to let him go, as he pulled his hand almost reluctantly from hers, and tottered off to join the singing peasants. As for herself, the conversation had an astoundingly sobering effect on her, and she sat quietly at their table collecting herself. She was just about to rise and order another drink when Sten's deep, rumbling voice sounded right behind her, "You are not quite as callow as I thought. That is... unexpected."

For the second time in her life, the qunari had managed to make Elissa nearly jump out of her skin, and when she turned to face him he almost had a half-smirk on his face at her surprise. She cleared her throat, trying to cover the embarrassing moment. "Callow?" She replied, ever more conscious of the slur in her tone. "You thought I was callow?"

"You sound surprised," he said, his half-smirk twitching. "You must have heard this before. You'll get over it. Eventually."

Elissa rolled her eyes, not in much mood to deal with the qunari's bizarre sense of flattery. "Remind me again why I let you out of that cage," she muttered with just enough good naturedness so that he wouldn't assume that she truly had regrets.

"I have wondered that myself," he replied. "It was one of the many things I find puzzling about your behavior."

The junior warden turned around in her chair so that she could get a proper look at him standing behind her. His face was blank, as it usually was, his arms folded over his chest as he stared down at her. She had the feeling he still had something he wanted to say and yet he was not saying it. She sighed, "Well, I find plenty of things puzzling about you, too."

Sten frowned at this. "What is there to be puzzled by? I am a simple creature. I like swords. I follow orders. There is nothing else to know about me."

Elissa could only shrug. "I don't think you're that simple."

Surprisingly, the qunari's frown turned into almost an impressed smile. "As I said, you are not as callow as I thought."

A moment of silence passed between them and in spite of herself, Elissa smiled back at him. She couldn't describe how, but she knew that she had just crossed a monumental bridge with Sten. She could almost call him a friend now. She decided she dare ask a question. "So now will you tell me why you were caged?"

"I caged myself," came Sten's typically backwards reply. "A weak mind is a deadly foe, as you are no doubt aware."

"Are you saying you put yourself in that cage, then?" Elissa asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

Sten shook his head. "I simply know that my failures are my own. I told you before that I was sent here. I was not alone. I came to your lands with seven of the Beresaad - my brothers - to seek answers about the Blight for our Arishok. We made our way across the Ferelden countryside without incident, seeing nothing of the threat we were sent to observe. Until the night we camped by Lake Calenhad." His countenance grew darker. "They came from everywhere. The earth beneath our feet, the air above us, our own shadows harbored the darkspawn. I saw the last of the creatures cut down, too late. I fell."

Elissa folded her arms on the back of her chair and rested her chin on them. "Sounds like what happened to me at Ostagar."

He nodded in reply. "I heard the stories of Ostagar. Your kith stood their ground when others fled. No one could do more than that." He regarded her with a strange look that she could not name before moving on with his story. "I don't know how long I lay on the battlefield among the dead, nor do I know how the farmers found me. I only know that when I woke, I was no longer among my brothers. And my sword was gone from my hand."

In her mind Elissa was putting the pieces together. She recalled what she had heard from the Revered Mother in Lothering about his crimes and the difficulty she had in convincing Sten to use a new sword. Her voice was quiet when she asked, "What did you do?"

"I searched for it. And when that failed, I asked my rescuers what had become of it."

"And then?"

Sten bowed his head in shame. "I killed them. With my bare hands. I did... I knew they did not have the blade. They had no reason to lie to me. I panicked. Unthinking, I struck them down."

Elissa gaped at him. "Over a sword?" She said, incredulous. "That's terrible."

He looked up at her and she was struck with how sorrowful he seemed. "I know. I cannot justify what I have done. My honor is forfeit." He flexed his right hand instinctively, continuing, "That sword was made for my hand alone. I have carried it from the day I was set into the Beresaad. I was to die wielding it for my people. Even if I could cross Ferelden and Tevinter unarmed and alone to return to Par Vollen, I would be slain on sight by the antaam. They would know me as soulless, a deserter. No soldier would cast aside his blade while he drew breath."

"But couldn't you search for it?" Elissa asked.

"If I knew where to look, it would be in my hand now," he replied simply.

She considered this. "You said you fought the darkspawn near Lake Calenhad? Do you remember where?"

"It could not have been far from this very location," Sten said, looking at her curiously. "The mage tower was well within sight."

Elissa smiled, "Don't worry, we'll find it."

Sten looked as though he didn't quite believe her but something in his face lifted. "Perhaps those words are empty but... thank you all the same."

"Why don't we go look around right now?" She suggested. "We're right here and may not get another chance for a while."

"At night?" The qunari replied dryly.

Elissa shrugged, "If you don't want to, that's fine. But we're leaving first thing in the morning, no matter how hung over Alistair is."

Sten sighed exasperatedly, but could not hide the hopeful glint in his eye. "Parshaara, let us move quickly then." Then without another word, he moved to the door of the tavern and slipped out quietly. Elissa rose from her seat, looking around behind her. Alistair was now surrounded by a group of drunken patrons, dancing some sort of jig. She shook her head to herself and followed Sten out.

The night was warm, thankfully, as her clothes provided scant protection from the elements. Furthermore, the sky was free of clouds. Elissa had a good feeling about their quest when she said, "Okay, lets go find your campsite."

"It was south of the tower," Sten replied and began marching pointedly in that direction.

They walked in silence for a while, Elissa growing more and more uncomfortable as the minutes ticked by. Finally, when she could stand it no longer, she looked up at her companion with a friendly smile. "I have a question."

"I am hardly surprised," was Sten's response, but the silence that followed indicated that he was waiting to hear the query.

"What's an Arishok?" Elissa asked, undeterred.

Sten seemed a little surprise that she had remembered the word from their previous conversation. "The one who commands the antaam - the body of the qunari."

"And why does he care about the Blight?"

"Why do you?" Sten looked down at her, lifting his eyebrows.

Elissa shrugged. "It's my job," she replied simply.

"Exactly. You don't ask. Nor do I. The Arishok sends me, and I go."

"So, does that mean you have to report back at some point?" She wondered aloud.

"Yes, but..." He sighed. "If we do not find my sword I will not be able to return home. As I said, if I tried to enter Par Vollen, I would be slain for desertion."

"I'm sure we'll find it," Elissa reassured him with a smile. "But if we don't, you can stay with us."

Sten frowned at her. "You say this as though you have a home to offer me, when you do not have one yourself." There was a long, uncomfortable silence, then he added softly, "Thank you."

No more was spoken for nearly three quarters of an hour, and Elissa was just beginning to regret her compassion and hasty suggestion to start the search right away when Sten stopped abruptly, looking back the way they came at the silhouette of the tower against the sky. "We camped here. Now, Warden, where do you suggest we start looking?"

"How about we ask him," Elissa said, pointing to a figure about twenty yards away, who Sten had evidently not noticed. "Look, he's got a lot of stuff with him. I wonder if he's a scavenger, picking over the battleground for things to sell."

Sten growled and began moving in the man's direction, but Elissa stopped him. "Let me do the talking," she advised. "Your presence alone will be enough to scare the pants off him."

"Very well," the qunari begrudgingly agreed.

They continued walking, and once the man caught sight of them in the moonlight, he called out to them, "Ho there, travelers, care to take a look at my -" He stopped speaking suddenly as he noticed Sten and visibly paled. "-Maker's breath!" He stepped back involuntarily as the pair came up. "I beg your pardon, friend, you... ah... startled me a bit."

"You haven't seen a sword lying around here, have you?" Elissa asked conversationally.

The man kept his beady eyes on Sten as he replied, "W-why, are you looking to buy one?"

It was clear to Elissa that they had struck gold. This man had taken the sword and surely anything else he could find off the bodies of Sten's fallen comrades from the battlefield, and was hocking them to anyone who would pay a few silvers for the goods. Sten, apparently, had the same thought. He stepped forward menacingly, bearing down on the scavenger. "Where is my sword?"

"I - I don't have it!" The man cried, holding up his arms over his head and cowering away. "I swear by Andraste's knickers! I sold it already!"

Elissa folded her arms over her chest, lifting her eyebrows. "That seems awfully convenient."

"It's true!" He whimpered pathetically. "Maker, please, you have to believe me! If I had it I'd give it to you! I sold it to a dwarf. Name of Dwyn. Said he was on his way to Redcliffe!"

Sten glanced at Elissa who nodded, and said to the man. "If you're lying, you _do_ know we'll be back?"

"I'm not, I promise you!"

"We'll see," Sten growled in his most frightening voice yet and with that the two left the man alone to soil his trousers in private.

As soon as they had put enough distance behind them, Elissa said, "First thing in the morning we'll send a courier along to Redcliffe. I meant to do it anyway, to have them begin preparing their troops, but I'll make sure the Arl has someone looking for this Dwyn person. With luck you'll have your sword back after we're done in Orzammar." She smiled apologetically up at her companion. "Do you think you can wait that long?"

Sten sighed. "It has been twenty eight days since I last held it in my hand. I had thought I would never see it again." He paused. "I will wait."

Elissa was fully sober and quite tired from their near two hour walk by the time they arrived back at the docks. She was just thinking to herself that she hoped Alistair had passed out in bed or at the very least had stopped drinking (Maker, he was going to be a pain in the morning when they would be trying to leave), when she suddenly heard his voice ringing out through the still night air.

"I heard you the first time, you dolt!" He was shouting. "And I'm telling you, that cannot be true! Now tell me, _where did she go?"_

She and Sten rounded a corner, heading for the tavern and spotted the templar yelling at one of the other patrons, who was leaning over barrel, sick as a dog. He retched in response and vomited a little, and Alistair reeled back in disgust. "Drunken fool." He muttered, turning away, and it was that moment that he spotted the pair. "Elissa, by the Maker, where have you been?" He marched right up to her, grabbing her by the arm and tugging her to his side, away from Sten. She didn't even have time to respond before he had turned angrily to the warrior. "What are you trying pull?" He asked with more ferocity in his tone than Elissa had ever heard. "What did you do to her? If you hurt her in any way, I swear -"

Sten's face contorted with rage. "I have not done anything. She was accompanying me on a personal errand, by her own request. Perhaps you should ask more and accuse less." He looked back to Elissa. "Thank you, kadan. I will be ready in the morning to move on." Then he left them, with a last disgusted look at Alistair.

He wasn't the only one who was angry. Elissa pulled her arm out of the templar's grip furiously. "What in Andraste's name was that about?" She whispered dangerously to him.

"You tell me," he replied with just as much venom. "What were you thinking, wandering off with him in the middle of the night? Do you know how long you were gone? What was I supposed to think?"

"What _did_ you think, Alistair?" Elissa asked, her temper and voice rising. "Please, enlighten me."

"I thought... I thought," Alistair began weakly. "That maybe you and he had... that he... Look, I don't know, alright? Just, suddenly you were gone and someone said he saw the two of you leave together and I just..." He hung his head. "I was worried, I'm sorry."

Elissa stared him for a moment, then sighed heavily. She moved closer and wrapped her arms around him, laying her head against his shoulder. He seemed surprised at first, then hugged her back silently. "You're daft," she murmured.

"I know," he replied just as quietly.

"Look, you don't have to worry about me," she continued. "I'm not going to... to..." She stopped, finding it extremely difficult to say what she meant. "I mean, I don't want -"

Alistair held her tighter against him and she realized he understood. They remained like that for a few minutes in silence, Elissa's heart pounding furiously the entire time. Had he really gotten jealous? What did it mean? She, of course, knew, but was too terrified to admit it to herself, not daring to hope. Finally, he broke the silence, whispering against her ear in such a way that sent a shiver down her spine. "I'm sorry. I was just very, _very _drunk and I jumped to conclusions. I don't really think that you would do... something... like that."

Elissa flushed and buried her face in his tunic. One of his hands found it's way to the back of her head and began stroking her hair softly, and she had the sudden urge to tell him what he already knew; what she was harboring inside her for fear of a rejection she knew wouldn't come. "Alistair, I -"

"Alistair?" A strange voice interrupted.

The two broke apart as though they had been struck by lightning, each with burning red faces. The owner of the voice was a knight in weather beaten armor, squinting at Alistair's face in the dim moonlight. "Alistair?" He said again. "Is that you?"

"Ser... Donall?" Alistair replied, just as confused as the knight.

"By the Maker, it is you!" The man stepped closer and held out his hand, which Alistair grasped firmly, grinning now. "How are you? I was certain you were dead!"

"Not yet, no thanks to Teryn Loghain," Alistair said bitterly.

The knight shook his head. "We heard the news. If Arl Eamon were well, he'd set Loghain straight soon enough."

Alistair's face fell at these words and Elissa sensed they were about to be given some terrible news. "...If he were well? What do you mean?"

The man called Ser Donall sighed, giving Alistair a sympathetic look. "The arl is stricken with an illness that threatens his life," he said, bowing his head. "We have found no cure, either natural or magical."

"When did this happen?"

"Not a fortnight ago, but he has declined quickly. No one knows the nature of the illness and even magic has done little to slow it's progress. Our only hope is a miracle. That is why I am here." He gestured toward the tower. "I was hoping to utilize the Circle's extensive library for any information on the Urn of Sacred Ashes, but the dockman turned me away."

"The Urn of Sacred Ashes?" Elissa asked suddenly, and Ser Donall turned to her, giving a slight bow before replying.

"Andraste's ashes are said to cure any illness," he supplied helpfully. "Every knight in Redcliffe has gone in search of the Urn, but I fear we are are chasing a fable. With each day, my hope diminishes." He paused. "I hope this does not sound too bold, for any friend of Alistair's is a friend of mine, but who, may I ask, are you?"

Elissa smiled, albeit a little embarrassedly, remembering how the knight came upon them. "I am Elissa Cousland, a Grey Warden, like Alistair."

"Cousland?" Donall repeated. "The teyrn's daughter?" Elissa nodded and he smiled in return. "I knew your father, he was a good man. Fair and forthright. It is an outrage what happened to him."

"Thank you for your kindness, Ser," Elissa replied quietly. "But for now, it is still too hard to think about it. Let us return to the Arl; I was hoping to meet him in fact."

"Why is that, if I may ask?"

Elissa glanced at Alistair who was unusually quiet and pale. He did not speak and so she continued, "We require his help in the Blight, and also we need supporters against Teyrn Loghain."

"I see," Donall said with a sigh. "The arl is a popular man, it's true. Teyrn Loghain, however, is a hero throughout Ferelden. Whatever the teyrn has done or not done, the arl remains ill, or worse. That is my primary concern."

A horrible thought struck Elissa then. "Do you think Loghain is involved wtih the arl's illness?" She asked delicately.

The knight shook his head. "The arl fell ill before the king died." He stopped, deep in thought. "But, what if Loghain planned that too? Ah, such thoughts do not sit well with me."

"Elissa, we should see what's happening in Redcliffe ourselves," Alistair spoke up finally, a definite note of distress in his tone. "I belive that now, more than ever."

Elissa looked up at him and she knew she would not be able to say no this time. She would never be able to forgive herself if the arl died and she had denied Alistair the opportunity to see him one last time. There was nothing for it; they were going to Redcliffe.

* * *

ELISSA'S COMPASSION

Elissa's most well known trait is one that many would consider a weakness for the leader of such a prestigious order. Yet, her companions against the Blight, even those who disagreed with any of her decisions (Sten and Morrigan) remained steadfastly at her side beacuse of this trait: compassion. Not just compassion, but caring, loyalty, and devotion to each of member of their fellowship. She would never say no when asked for a favor, even by Morrigan.

The team she had assembled was so varied in many different ways; had opposing opinions on many ways that she handled things, that one might wonder how she kept the peace between them all, and still managed to end the Blight effectively. Again, the answer is compassion. Her tender care for those she considered friends was enough to put the most heated of squabbles (usually between Alistair and Morrigan) aside for the good of the whole. She never asked anyone to return on the favors she granted them, and with that she earned back the loyalty she had paid in full.

* * *

Each companion disagreed with her at one point or another, this much is certain, but that she was able to see them through to the end speaks volumes about the person she truly was.

Elissa didn't know what to say to her companions the next morning when informing them of the sudden change of plans to head to Redcliffe. Sten thought it was because of him.

"I appreciate the thought, kadan," he said to her privately. "But there is no need. I said I would wait and I will honor my word."

"I know you would, Sten," she replied with a sigh. "It is not you, it's -" A series of loud thuds interrupted her as Alistair came down the stairs, into the common room, where the rest were waiting. It was hard to miss his abnormally grim expression and he soon had everyone's attention.

"Ready when you are," he said tonelessly to Elissa, ignoring everyone else, before heading out the door.

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence, as the attentions of the companions shifted to her.

"Him?" Sten asked darkly. "Surely you see the error in this plan."

"It's personal," Elissa replied. "And it's not like we won't be doing you a favor as well, so just drop -"

"Personal, eh?" Morrigan cut in. "I thought the pair of you were Grey Wardens? Not noble born brats who can just fritter time away on their ever changing whim."

"Don't, Morrigan, just don't." Elissa rubbed her forehead. "Yes, there is a personal reason to go, but it won't be a complete waste of time. We'll be getting troops there as well, so let's just... go, shall we?"

Redcliffe was four and a half days' walk from Circle Tower, barring any unforeseen circumstances, and each hour that passed was miserable. Alistair's dark countenance weighed heavily on Elissa. She longed to comfort him, to reassure him that all would be well, but every time she tried to speak with him, he was curt, if he answered at all. The best she could do was tell herself that he was not angry with her, only deeply worried about the arl and could spare no other thoughts. She sought refuge with Leliana and Wynne, who did not complain about the reason to go to Redcliffe, and were even sympathetic for the boy.

It was not until the night before they were due to arrive that Alistair came to her, and it was to drop a bomb shell.

She was sitting her tent, composing a letter to her friend Eriale by candle light when Alistair's face appeared in the flap. His expression was not that of the brooding man he had been earlier in the day, but instead he actually looked nervous. "Elissa, can we talk for a moment?"

Elissa was just relieved to hear something of his old self back in his voice. She smiled and set aside her letter, "Of course, let me just -" She stopped to push Argent to one side of the tent to make room and patted the canvas floor.

Alistair let himself in and folded himself up on the floor in front of her. It was several long moments before he spoke again. "Look, I need to tell you something I, ah, probably should have told you earlier."

A strong sense of foreboding overcame Elissa. She tried to smile, hoping she was wrong. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"I don't know. I doubt it," Alistair said truthfully and her heart sank. What could possibly go wrong now? There was another moment of silence as the templar gathered his thoughts. "I told you before how Arl Eamon raised me, right? That my mother was a serving girl at the castle and he took me in? The reason he did that was because..." He stopped again and swallowed hard, not wanting to continue. "Well, because my father was King Maric. Which made Cailan my... half-brother I suppose."

Elissa felt the air go out of her, like he had instead hit her with a sledgehammer. Maric's son? _The king's son? _She had been gallivanting about, flirting with, even falling for _the prince of Ferelden? _Her first instinct was to say, 'Why Maker, why?' but one look at his face and she knew that he hated telling her every bit as much as she hated hearing it. The seconds ticked by and she still had not said anything. He was looking anywhere but her, his face draining of what little color it had left as he waited for her response. Finally she forced herself to smile and said, "So... you're not just a bastard, but a _royal _ bastard?"

Alistair let out a relieved laugh and Elissa inwardly blessed the return of his smile. "Yes!" He exclaimed. "I guess it does at that. I should use that line more often." He chuckled to himself, his air considerably lighter than when he first came in. After a moment his face turned serious again, keen to get everything off his chest. "I would have told you," he said quietly. "But... it never meant anything to me. I was inconvenient, a possible threat to Cailan's rule and so they kept me secret. I've... never talked about this with anyone. Everyone who knew either resented for me or coddled me." He looked at her directly. "You remember the way Duncan treated me at Ostagar, this is why. He kept me away from the fighting on purpose." He took one of her hands between both of his own, locking his gaze onto her. "I didn't want you to know, as long as possible. I'm sorry."

She wanted to pull her hand away from his, but didn't have the heart. It still felt wonderful to touch him, to be touched in this way. She felt sick to her stomach just thinking that. Presently she had to respond again and it took her just as long as the first time. "I think I understand."

He sighed with relief, his easy smile in place. "Oh good, I'm so glad. It's not like I got special treatment for it, anyhow. Anyway, that's it. That's what I had to tell you. I thought you should know."

"Why tell me then?" Elissa asked quickly and with more emotion in her voice than she meant to let slip. Alistair looked shocked and she struggled to recover. "Why do I need to know?"

"Because... it will probably come up," he replied. "I didn't want to walk into Redcliffe without you knowing the truth, that would just be... awkward. Look," he paused, squeezing her hand, probably to get her to look at him again. "I have no illusions about my status. It's always been made very clear that I am a commoner and now a Grey Warden, and in _no_ way in line for the throne. And that's fine by me. No, if there's an heir to be found , it's Arl Eamon himself. He's not of royal blood but he is Cailan's uncle, and more importantly very popular with the people. Though... if he's really as sick as we've heard..." He paled again and shook his head. "No, I don't want to think about that, I really don't."

For the first time since his confession, Elissa felt a pang of sympathy for him. She almost leaned in to hug him, but that sick feeling in her stomach stopped her. She settled for giving him a reassuring look, to which he smiled. "There you have it," he said by way of wrapping up. "Can we just forget about it and we'll pretend you still think I'm some nobody who was too lucky to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens."

"That's not really what you think, is it?" Elissa asked quietly and for the second time, her emotion got the better of her.

This time, Alistair brushed back a stray strand of blonde hair off her forehead and let his hand rest on her cheek. "No," he admitted. "What I really think is that I was lucky enough to survive with you." He smiled at her then rose to leave. He had almost disappeared from view when Elissa found her voice.

"Alistair?"

He stopped in his tracks and turned around, ducking his head through the flap again. "Yes?"

Elissa swallowed hard. Every moment she was with him was straining her. "Could you do me a favor?"

He smiled at her. "Anything."

"Would you mind taking my watch tonight? I - er - think that chicken we had for dinner isn't agreeing with me."

Alistair winced sympathetically. "Of course, you get some rest and feel better. For me?" He smiled, winked, and left again, this time for good.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Elissa flopped over onto her bedroll, unbidden tears starting to flow. She knew she was being ridiculous. Obviously Alistair didn't want anything to change between them; he regarded his birthright as a dirty secret that should be kept hidden at all cost. Of course, he was right. Look at how she was reacting. Still, she couldn't bring herself to just accept it. No matter what he had said about not being in line for the throne, she thought otherwise. He obviously didn't have much experience with the Ferelden nobility. They would never let a low level arl of common birth take the crown.

The very thought wracked more tears from her. She blessed the Maker for Ser Donall's interruption last night. She shuddered to think the repercussions if she had actually told the prince she had feelings for him. Worse still, there was no way she could tell him now without arousing suspicion that she was attracted to his birthright.

Outside, she could hear light conversation around the campfire. He was telling everyone else. He had waited until she knew first.

Presently, Argent licked his mistress's face affectionately and Elissa wrapped an arm around his neck, hugging him to her. "Is it even possible to be with him now," she whispered to herself. "The crown would tear us apart. Why even try?" Her heart ached for him. She thought with growing nausea the way they had held each other outside Circle Tower. Why did he do such a thing? Didn't he know what was bound to happen, that they would end up separated in the end?

It took a long time, but after several hours of crying, and with a splitting headache, Elissa reached her senses. Alistair cared about her, that much was obvious. He was convinced that his parentage wouldn't matter and so he attached himself to her. And in the end, if the forces at work tried to separate them, she would fight to the death to remain with him. She refused to let a king's indiscretion take her away from the man she -

She dare not finish the thought. It would be hard, but she knew she had to move on from this. Go about life normal, as if she didn't know. She couldn't let this affect her, especially now, when Alistair needed her support more than ever. She sat straight up suddenly, wondering what time it was. She had long since heard the tell tale signs of everyone getting ready to sleep, or otherwise prepare for their watch, but how long ago was that? She crawled to the flap of her tent and peeked outside. Some distance away was the soft glow of the watch fire and Alistair's hunched figure before it, his back to her.

It was a chilly night, but she didn't care. She tiptoed outside, cautiously approaching the templar. When she reached him, she touched his shoulder wordlessly, and he jumped but smiled when he saw her. "Hey you," he said. "Feeling better?"

Elissa returned his smile with surprising ease and she nodded. "Yes, much. Can I keep you company?"

"Please, please do. I swear I don't know why we bother keeping watch when we're on the highway like this. Besides, we'd hear darkspawn from a mile away. They're not exactly the stealthiest bunch." He grinned and patted the earth next to him, indicating for her to sit.

Instead she dropped her knees behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle, laying her head on his broad back. He seemed surprised at this random display of affection, but laid one of his hands atop hers. "What did I do to deserve this?" He asked jokingly.

Elissa didn't reply, only held him tighter. _They'll never take you away from me,_ she thought to herself. _Not the nobles, not the darkspawn, no one. _


End file.
